


if this river don't drown me, it's down i'll mean to roam

by autumn_exalted



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Atlantis AU, Disney AU, F/M, Linguist!Stiles, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, deucalion is a good guy, kida!derek, milo!stiles, peter deserves it, royal!Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:16:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7707628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autumn_exalted/pseuds/autumn_exalted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who the hell are these guys.” Commander Hale barks, his hand automatically going to his hip holster and Stiles lunges forward, stopping him from pulling his gun out.</p><p>“No! Ah… Um. Commander Hale. These are…. These are Atlanteans.” He manages to stutter out, removing his hand from Commander Hale’s person under Peter’s deathly glare of death. He takes a step back but watches as the Commander doesn’t immediately pull his gun out so he counts it as a win.</p><p>“What?” Kate hisses, turning to look back at Stiles with a shocked expression. “You can’t be serious. <i>Atlanteans?</i> That’s impossible!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	if this river don't drown me, it's down i'll mean to roam

**Author's Note:**

> This was not beta'd because I am a terrible person whom no one wishes to beta for. My comma usage scares everyone away - you have been warned. (there is also some excessive use of italics in this thing, so... do with that what you will)
> 
> This was my entry for Week 2 of this years Sterek Summer Spectacle, the lovely art in it is by @ianshanart and @pomonarose over on tumblr, so please please please go shower them with love because they deserve it and so much more.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. First off, I’d like to thank this board for taking the time to hear my proposal. Now, we’ve all heard of the legend of Atlantis, a continent somewhere in the mid-Atlantic that was home to an advanced civilization possessing technology far beyond our own that, according to our great Greek philosopher friend Plato, was suddenly struck---“

“Stiles. I understand that this is sort of important to you, but I really have places to be and I really don’t know who Plato is either.”

Stiles blinked.

_“Scott.”_

“I know, I know. Atlantis isn’t actually a myth, it’s near Iceland, not Ireland, there was a translation issue that somehow no one else has found except _you_ because it seems you literally have _no life_ \--”

_“Hey!”_

Scott sighs and rests his chin on his hand, staring up at his friend with a concerned expression across his face.

“We honestly need to get you a girlfriend… Or a boyfriend… Or someone, _anyone_ else for you to talk about this with because _I don’t care,_ dude.”

Stiles slumps against his makeshift podium and gives his best friend his best glare from behind his round glasses. Scott just shrugs, unrepentant for the insults to his friend, nay, _his brother_.

“Why am I even friends with you, dude?” Stiles whines and Scott jumps up from where he’s been sitting crisscross-applesauce on the ground in front of Stiles board of maps and other research. Scott slaps him on the back and gives him a wide grin.

“Cause you peed on my sandcastle in like, second grade, and I wouldn’t stop crying till you--”

“Gave up my batman comic and my chocolate chip cookie. Yes. I remember.” Stiles sighs again and gives his friend a hurt look. “I asked you to listen to my lecture man, and we haven’t even gotten to the good part.”

Scott grabs him by the shoulders, turning Stiles till they’re face to face and looking him very seriously in the eyes.

“And I did listen to it, completely, one hundred-percent all the way through, the first _three times you did it, man_ but Allison and I have wedding stuff to do today, and all you’re really doing, repeating this lecture, is working yourself up more and more. I know the big meeting is today, but I think you’ve just gotta relax. You’ll do fine. You’ll show them all this research you’ve done, and all your proof about Atlantis being real, and they’ll listen to you. They have to. They’d be stupid not to.”

 

 

 

“They’re stupid.”

Stiles slams the door to his and Scott’s shared apartment with gusto, shaking off his wet jacket and throwing his soaked and ruined papers to the ground in a sad wet lump. They make a pathetic flop sound when they hit the tiled floor and Stiles personally relates to that sad flop sound. That sad flop sound is resonating deeply with _his soul_ right now.

Scott doesn’t answer, so Stiles takes this as express permission to rant away. He peels off his soaking converse and throws them onto the shoe mat, talking as he goes.

“They are all completely, absolutely, a massive group of stupid, _stupid-heads_ who wouldn’t know the first thing about a proper scientific expedition unless it came right up to them and bit them on the ass! They _ran away_ from me, Scotty! And I don’t think a single one of them has done more than a slow meander a day in their lives! Yet there they were, speed walking away from me, after they’d sent out an email at 3:30 claiming my meeting had been rescheduled! To 3:30! And then, not even a minute later, I get another email claiming that because I’m late, to my own fucking meeting mind you, they’re declining my proposal!”

Stiles takes off his fogged up glasses and attempts to clean them off before continuing with his rant.

“Those fucking ingrates, I even threatened to quit my job, but did they care? No! And I’m the only one in like 50 years who’s known how to properly handle Ol’ Bessie and get her to work properly every time she quits, and still they didn’t take me seriously!”

By now Stiles has completely rid himself of his bag, and most of his soaked clothes. He’s peeling off his outer layer plaid shirt, leaving on his damp t-shirt, just as he turns the corner into the kitchen and finds his quiet roommate, as well as someone else whom he’s never seen before.  He stops, mid-rant, and just stares while his arms are still stuck in their pathetic struggle to be free from the damp prison that is a rain soaked plaid shirt.

“Uuuummm…”

Stiles would honestly like to take a moment to thank his brain for all the hard work it does, especially in moments like these when it apparently knows exactly what not to say, and yet it still goes through with it and says it, as if it gets some sick satisfaction about embarrassing it’s body at every turn. So long as Stiles looks like an idiot, his brain is all for it. Like now, for instance, when a hot, older chick is sitting in his shitty dining room in his shitty apartment in a tight black dress with a fluffy scarf over her shoulders. Scott looks just as lost as he does, which is nice. So long as Stiles brain is being stupid, it’s not just taking Stiles down, it’s taking Scott with it.

The lady smirks, her lips painted bright red and her blond hair tied back and under a hat that’s just as fluffy as the scarf, there’s a large coat draped over the back of the chair she’s sitting on and she’s leaning back in it like it’s the comfiest place to recline in the entire world. Stiles’ back would like to disagree because these chairs suck ass, and he would know. He nabbed them from the alley a few streets down, they’re wobbly and splintery and if Stiles so much as scooches his butt even a little in one of them he gets slivers in unfortunate places.

“Hello, Stiles Stilinski.” Her voice has a sultry tone to it, but there’s something there that makes the hair on the back of Stiles’ neck stand on end. His gut sends red alert signals to his brain – _RED ALERT. RED ALERT._ These signals only get louder when she stands up and moves with something of a predatory grace.

“Um. Stiles?” Scott starts, his voice sounding very confused. Stiles peels his eyes away from the woman to look down at his best friend. “This is Kate Argent? Allison’s Aunt. She says she works for…. What was it again?”

The woman, Kate, looks down at Scott and gives him a small smile, looking up at Stiles through her eyelashes. The entire thing is abjectly horrifying and somehow arousing, and Stiles brain is still screaming _RED ALERT. RED ALERT_.

“I’m here on behalf of my employer, and this employer specializes in, well, let’s just say a little bit of everything. When darling little Scott here mentioned what you’ve been trying to accomplish with the museum’s board of directors, well, I gave him a call and he’s got a most intriguing proposition for you. Are you interested?”

Stiles brain slowly starts to reboot.

“Your employer?” He gives a half incredulous snort. “And who’s that, exactly?”

Kate’s lips twirl up at the corners in a feline-esque grin.  Stiles feels like he’s fallen for a trap.

 

 

 

The estate is huge, and even through the dark, dreary rain and the tinted windows of the sleek black car he’s currently in the back of,  he can see that the place is fancy as all hell. Stiles doesn’t think he’s even seen something this fancy on the TV screen. He thinks back to how exactly he’s gotten to this moment right now but there’s a blank spot between Point A – his and Scott’s apartment, and Point B which is wherever the fuck they’re at right now.

They’re driven through a large set of wrought iron gates, Kate sitting in the front seat driving through as casual as can be and Stiles and Scott sitting in the back.

Scott seems to be as confused as Stiles is, though, which is nice.

Kate drives them up a crazy long cobblestone driveway and stops the car right outside the front door. There’s someone waiting there who immediately hops in the car as soon as Kate gets out, Scott and Stiles following her, and Stiles watches as the car drives around the side of the building, probably to a garage.

The tall front doors open for them and when they step inside Stiles feels distinctly out of place. Like if he even so much as breathes he’s going to dirty up the place. Everything is rich colors; there are artifacts of different origins neatly set about on display, like full on medieval knight armor to their left and then a few sharp set of knives under a large glass case to their right. There’s a butler that’s taking Kate’s coat and scarf before turning to Scott and Stiles. Stiles reluctantly hands him his wet coat and the man seemingly disappears, footsteps absolutely silent on the hardwood floors. Stiles shivers and looks towards Scott who’s walked right up to one of the many displays of armor that seem to line the main hall. He’s reaching out to touch it when Kate speaks, her voice echoing.

“This way, please. And try not to get lost.” She’s already halfway across the hall, her high heeled steps muted on the long rug that leads to what seems to be an elevator. Stiles follows, eyeing the artifacts, which seem to mainly consist of weapons and armor, along with some statues and paintings, that are all glinting in the light of the large stone fireplace that sits directly in the middle of the left wall. There are two large sets of stairs on either side of the front door from which they’ve just entered, as well as doors underneath the stairs.

“Keep up; Mr. Emery does not like to be kept waiting.” Scott and Stiles rush after her and get into the elevator just as she’s closing the door. It’s an old style thing, where it’s made of styled iron bars and you could touch the wall on the other side of it if you wanted.  Scott looks like he’s going to try and do just that when Stiles slaps his hand and gives him a warning look, Scott simply shrugs, and Kate begins talking. Her back to them and her long blonde hair curling around her shoulder blades.

“You will address him as ‘Mr. Emery’ or ‘Sir’. You will stand unless asked to be seated. Keep your sentences short and to the point.” She turns to look back at Stiles and grins again. “We clear?”

Stiles nods, his heart suddenly in his throat, and Kate nods, still grinning.

“And relax. He doesn’t bite…” She shrugs, turning back around just as the elevator stops. “Often.”

She opens the door and doesn’t even have to say anything to usher them out of it. They’re now in a room that somehow is even larger than the main hall was, and it’s lined from floor to very high arched ceiling with books upon books upon books. Stiles didn’t know there could be this many books in one place. There are significantly less violent artifacts in this room, like a large globe of the Earth and many carved wooden statues, but what it lacks in the number of violent artifacts it makes up for in furniture. There are quite a few desks, all absolutely littered with papers and writing tools, and there are a few old styled couches and arm chairs, mostly gathered around another large stone fireplace in the middle of one of the walls. Above the fireplace are paintings, and the biggest one is what catches Stiles’ eye. He walks as close as he can get, his neck craning back to look up at what is undoubtedly his mother, his grandmother, and a man he’s never seen before.

“Scott…. Scott.” Stiles’ voice carries and he can hear Scott coming towards him from whatever he was looking at across the hall. He comes to stand beside Stiles, looking up at the painting as well.

“ _Whoa._ Dude, that’s your mom!” Stiles nods.

“And my babcia.”

Scott blinks.

“Your what?”

“His grandmother.” A male voice speaks up and both Scott and Stiles startle, turning towards the sound. “Those two…They were some of the finest explorers I’d ever met.” The man stands up from the chair he’d been sitting at, Stiles hadn’t even noticed him, and walks up to them. It takes Stiles no seconds at all to realize that this man is the man in the picture, even though he’s got black sunglasses on that cover his eyes.

“I’m Deucalion Emery, it’s a pleasure to meet you Stiles, and…?”

“Scott McCall.” Scott holds out his hand but Deucalion doesn’t take it. Scott gives Stiles a confused look before slowly and awkwardly putting his hand back down to his side.

“Mm, yes. I’ve heard of you.”

“Did you really know them?” Stiles interrupts, trying to stop the awkwardness from floating in the air, and Deucalion turns to him, a small smile turning up the corner of his lips. He looks quite a bit older than the painting. Stiles wonders if it was painted before he was born or sometime after.

“Yes. I met your grandmother quite a while ago. I was at an auction and she was trying to outbid me on a rather ancient set of Polish stones that were said to have been owned by a witch. It was a lovely game, I won in the end but I gave them to her as a gift. Not many people have as much fire as she did then, especially for someone her age. I thought it was just her that was like that until quite a while later I met your mother and found the same fire in her. I found out it was a Stilinski trait.”

Stiles smiles despite himself.

“Dad always used to call her his little spitfire.”

Deucalion laughs. “Yes, I can imagine. I actually joined your mother a few times, on her crazy expeditions. She was incredibly determined, and she’d do the damnedest of things to get her way. She spoke of you often, well, you and your father. But especially you.”

Stiles looks up at the painting, Scott silent by his side.

“Funny…. I don’t think she ever mentioned you.”

Deucalion laughs again, quietly and begins walking away.

“No. She probably wouldn’t have. She knew how much I liked my privacy, even before…” Deucalion trails off, leaning against one of the many desks in the room and Stiles’ brows furrow.

“Mr. Emery, should I be wondering why I’m here?”  Deucalion waves a hand before pulling his glasses off, cloudy eyes looking right at Stiles and he shares a look with Scott.

“Please, call me Deucalion. And look over on that table.” He points to the table nearest to Stiles and Scott and Stiles slowly makes his way to it, Scott trailing behind him. There’s a wrapped parcel sitting amongst all the papers. “It’s for you.”

Stiles looks back to Deucalion before picking up the package.

_To Przemysław_

_with love ~_

_Mom_

“What is it?” Scott asks and Stiles shows him the writing on the front.

“It’s… it’s from my mom.” He looks back at Deucalion who gives him a sad smile.

“Yes, she left it with me after our last expedition, I was in the hospital, they were trying to fix my eyes. Trying being the operative word. She handed that to me and told me to keep it, and if anything happened to her I was to give it to you whenever you were ready.”

“And you never opened it?” Stiles asks incredulously, wondering just how long it’s been since his mother gave this to Deucalion.

“I do not open things that are not addressed to me; I am quite capable of controlling myself.”

“Dude, you should totally open it.” Scott pipes up from beside him and so he slowly peels back the nondescript brown paper. Inside it is a book, symbols written all around the outside of the cover, stamped into the leather and then painted in with a light blue shiny paint. It’s latched shut but Stiles knows immediately what he’s holding in his hands and his eyes widen.

“I don’t get it. Your mom left you a book…” Stiles is immediately shaking his head, turning to Scott with wide eyes, his heart beating in his throat.

“Scott. This isn’t just any old book. This… This is the Shepherd’s Journal!” Stiles unhooks the latch on the side and flips the book open, showing the pages of Atlantean writing to Scott, an excited jump happening before he can control it. He turns to Deucalion, wondering.

“How did you…. Mr.… Deucalion, do you know what this is?”

Deucalion’ eyebrows rise but his expression stays blank.

“It’s… It’s the key to finding the lost continent of Atlantis! As in the underwater continent of Atlantis! I can’t believe my mother found it!”

He immediately begins flipping through the pages.

“Atlantis is a myth. I wasn’t born yesterday, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles’ head snaps up, an exasperated expression on his face and Scott looks horrified, because that expression can only mean one thing and one thing only – ranting.

“No, Sir. This book is filled with coordinates, clues, they’re all right here!”

“To be honest, Stiles, it looks mainly like a whole bunch of scribbles to me.” Scott says, trying to interrupt and Stiles snorts.

“Come on, Scotty! I’ve shown you my research a billion times. It’s written in a dialect that no longer exists!”

“So it’s useless.” Deucalion retorts and Stiles kind of wants to scream.

“No. It’s just... Difficult. I’ve spent my entire life reading through my mom’s journals and learning dead languages. I’m a translator as well as a mechanic for the Beacon Hills Museum; it’s not scribbles to me.”

“Alright, Stiles, but what if it’s fake?” Scott tries again and Stiles laughs.

“Scott, come on. My mom had been doing this her whole life; she learned from the best of the best, she’d know if this was fake. Besides, why would she leave me a fake? Why would she give this to Deucalion to keep safe if it was a fake?”

Scott sighs. “Alright, fine. But what the hell are you going to do with it?” Stiles doesn’t like that tone of voice Scott’s using, not one bit. Stiles gives him a look and Scott just raises his eyebrows.

“I’m gonna get funding.”

Scott blinks a few times, like his brain is trying to reboot. “From who?” Scott‘s voice echoes in the hall and Stiles licks his lips.

“From… From the museum.”

“Stiles, they’ll never believe you!”

“Scott, Scotty my boy, I can’t believe you’d disrespect me like this. I’ll _make_ them believe.”  Scott raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Like earlier today?”

“Yes, exact--- Well, no. Never mind.” Stiles growls and pulls his glasses off before he starts pacing, the book open in one hand and his glasses in another. Fine. If he can’t convince them to do this, then he’ll do it on his own. His mother could do it, so can he. He’s a Stilinski for goodness sake!

“Fine.” He starts. “Fuck the museum. I’ll go looking for Atlantis on my own. I’ll get a freaking rowboat if I have to! But I’m going!”

Scott stares at him for a second before sighing.

“Lemme guess, I’m gonna have to post-pone the wedding.”

Stiles winces. “Well… I mean… I’d hope not?”

Scott sighs again, for longer this time, and Stiles stops pacing, putting his glasses back on to properly look at his best friend. “Stiles’ I’m not having a wedding without my best man, and if my best man is going to fucking paddle himself out into the middle of the ocean then I’m going to be there right beside him.”

“Awe, Scotty. Are we having a moment? I feel like this is a moment. If you weren’t already getting married I’d probably propose right now.”

“See, this. This is exactly why I got you to come here today.” Stiles whirls around, having completely forgotten about Deucalion’s presence.

“What? You called us here to hear Stiles’ propose to me?”

Deucalion rolls his cloudy eyes and pushes off of the desk he’d been leaning on. His suit somehow still impeccably unwrinkled. He grins.

“No. I made your mother and grandmother a bet, absolutely ages ago. We were somewhere down in Mexico, camped just outside some Mayan temple, and your mother had been talking my ear off about this journal. Finally, that night I got fed up and I made a bet. I didn’t believe she’d find it. So I bet her that if she actually did, and if it was real, then I’d finance the entire expedition. Now, I know that your mother’s gone, Stiles, but I’m a man of my word.”

“Your mother was a brilliant woman, most people don’t even know the half of it, and I know she was absolutely determined to find this Atlantis and prove everyone wrong about it, so if we can bring back even one small ounce of proof, and make that happen for her, even now. Then that’ll be enough for me. But you won’t be finding Atlantis in a rowboat, Stiles. You’ll be finding it in this.”

Deucalion leans over and flicks a switch on one end of the desk behind him and some of the papers fall to the ground as a model of what looks to be a weird submarine slowly rises from an open hatch in the middle of the desk. Scott and Stiles both step closer for a closer look.

This…. This is… Absolutely insane.

Stiles says so to Deucalion and Deucalion just grins as he walks around the desk to the opposite side. Scott picks up the model and turns it around in his hands, his lips turned down at the corners.

“I mean, typically I’m the first to say that about any of Stiles’ schemes, but yeah. I think this is even more insane than Stiles taking a rowboat to find Atlantis in the first place. Wouldn’t you need a crew or something to pilot this thing?”

Deucalion shrugs.

“That’s all taken care of.” Stiles' brows furrow.

“Um… I dunno what you mean by taken care of but you can’t have just, anyone coming along on this sort of expedition.”

Deucalion laughs.

“Trust me. I know.”

 

 

 

This is insane. Totally, one hundred percent, _completely insane._

Stiles stares wide eyed up at the busy deck in front of him. He can hear Allison laughing behind him just a second before two arms link with his on either side of him. Scott on his left, Allison on his right.

“You keep looking like that and your face’ll be permanently stuck that way, y’know.” She laughs and they walk forward weaving in and out of  people who are running around carting different things around. Stiles swears he even sees someone carrying around random engine parts before they disappear below deck.

“I can’t believe both of you are coming with me. I can’t believe this is happening. _I can’t believe_ —“

“Oh come on Stiles, you think I’m gonna let you steal my fiancé away to go on some adventure. I’m one of your best friends to! Anyways, it’s a little late for a freak out since we’re in the middle of the freaking ocean already and besides, both of you are bound to get into some sort of trouble and if I’m not here to bail you out of it, then who is?.”

“I believe that would be my job.” A voice speaks up from behind them and Allison shrieks, letting go of Stiles arms to launch herself at the familiar voice behind them. Scott and Stiles turn around to see Kate Argent decked out in military pants and a black tank-top, her hair back in a braid and her bright red lipstick nowhere to be found.

“Aunt Kate!”

Kate grins at her niece and then turns to Scott and Stiles, nodding and raising an eyebrow.

“Weren’t sure you were going to show up, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles blinks.

“Are you kidding me? This is basically everything my entire life has been leading up to! Besides, I’m the only one who can read the journal. You wouldn’t know the first place to look without me.”

Her bright blue eyes give him a slow once over and once again Stiles feels something markedly dangerous about the woman. Especially with how she’s grinning at him.

“Glad you’re so enthusiastic. Let’s get going. It’s taken me a few hours to find you, and we’ve got to get you all debriefed.”

They follow Kate below deck, down and around many confusing corners and corridors until they reach what Stiles assumes is the launch deck. Stiles’ brain hurts just thinking about how large this boat is, he can’t even imagine having been able to navigate it on his own.

_“Attention. All hands to launch bay. To whoever took the ‘L’ from the Motor Pool sign, ha-ha, we’re all extremely amused.”_

A bored sounding female voice echoes from the intercom system just as Kate ducks into a side room, motioning for them to follow her in. As soon as they’re out of the hustle and bustle Kate closes the door and all the sounds of the crew grow muffled and muted. Inside the room is Deucalion and another man, one whom Stiles doesn’t recognize.

“Stiles, Scott, Ms. Allison, this is Commander Peter Hale, he led the Iceland team that brought the Journal back.”

Commander Hale gives them each a nod and holds out his hand towards Stiles, who takes it and shakes it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet the son of Claudia Stilinski.” He nods down to the Shepherd’s Journal that Stiles has got tightly held in his left hand. “I see you’ve got the journal, it’s got some pretty pictures in it but I’m more of a murder-mystery fan myself. I’ll be in charge of this expedition.”

Stiles frowns and turns to Deucalion.

“You’re not coming along?”

Deucalion laughs and shakes his head.

“A blind millionaire, wandering around underwater? It doesn’t sound like the best place to be. Besides, my days of following along on a hair-brained trip are most definitely over.  Commander Hale and Ms. Kate will be my eyes on this trip. I do, however wish you all luck.”

_“Attention, all personnel. Launch will commence in fifteen minutes.”_

Commander Hale smiles and Kate opens the door, letting the noise of the crew invade their senses once more.

“I’d say that’s our cue, come on Allison, let me show you the sub.”

Scott and Allison follow Kate out of the room but Stiles stays behind for a moment, turning back to Deucalion.

“Mr. Emery.”

“Commander Hale.”

“It’s time.” Deucalion grins as Commander Hale leaves as well.

“Goodbye, Deucalion.”

“Make your mother proud, Stiles.”

Stiles opens his mouth to say something more but a hand grabs him by the wrist and pulls him out the door. When he turns to look at who’s dragging him he sees Scott’s wide smile.

“Dude, this thing is seriously huge and seriously wicked. Way better than a rowboat.” Stiles laughs and follows Scott as he pulls him along in the direction everyone else is going. Stiles gets distracted by looking ahead of them at the massive submarine and he can tell he’s got an absolutely stupid expression on his face but he doesn’t care because Scott’s right, the thing is _HUGE._ He’s so busy looking at the outside of the submarine that naturally he bumps into someone, except this person is also massive and so he literally bounces right off them, knocking some items off the cart they’re pushing.

The man stops walking and looks down at him, raising an eyebrow and leaning down to pick up what appears to be a stick of dynamite, _Jesus Christ_. Of course Stiles would bump into the one guy carrying explosives.

“You better watch where you’re going, kid. Are you even sure you’re in the right place?” The man is built like a freaking tank, and he’s got dark skin and a shaved down head, shorter than Stiles used to shave his own hair down to, there’s a rather dashing moustache gracing his upper lip and Stiles blinks up at him for a moment before shaking himself off.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I’m sure. I’m Stiles Stilinski.” The man’s eyebrows rise and his eyes widen in surprise for a second before Stiles is being subjected to his second look over in fifteen minutes.

“Huh. Claudia’s kid. You look like you’re twelve.”

“Well you look like a freaking strong man from the circus, leave me alone, man. I can’t help my youthful glow.” The guy snorts.

“Youthful glow, yeah sure. And the glasses?”

Stiles pushes said glasses up his nose from where they’d slid down and shrugs. “My one weakness.” The man grins down at him.

“Who’s your shadow?”

The man nods his chin to Scott, who’s still holding onto his arm and Scott grins before holding out his hand for the guy to shake.

“I’m Scott McCall.”

The talking brick wall takes Scott’s hand and shakes it, nodding for a second.

“Vernon Boyd, but just call me Boyd, I’m the demolition expert. What do you do?”

They all start walking again and Scott immediately launches into a detailed story about how he’s a nurse who works for the Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital just like his mum, but currently he’s just tagging along to make sure Stiles doesn’t end up severely injuring himself which Stiles would protest to except literally not even five minutes ago he ran into a dude who’s cart is piled six feet high with explosives of all kinds. Stiles is kind of surprised he isn’t dead yet and the trip hasn’t even started.

They catch back up to Kate and Allison a few meters away from the loading docks for the sub, and it appears the only reason they have caught up is because Kate is talking to a guy who’s waving his arms around with an angry scowl across his face.

“How exactly am I supposed to cook anything for this trip, if there’s literally nothing but beans, bacon, whisky and lard in these goddamn groceries! We need, at least, the four basic food groups!”

Kate sighs.

“Listen Whittemore, I can’t help you with this alright? Take it up with Martin, she was in charge of supplies.”

“I don’t want to talk to fucking Martin! She’s always insulting me!”

As they get closer Stiles notices that this Whittemore guy is dressed completely in white, but the front of his clothes are dirty, and he’s got one cart behind him with some boxes of what seems to be the bacon, beans, whiskey and lard he was yelling about.

Kate turns to look at him, Scott and Boyd as they arrive and she gives Whittemore a smirk. “I have to get to command, you should probably get to the kitchens before we leave without you. Because we will if you’re not on the sub in the next five minutes.”

Whittemore glares and stomps off, taking his cart with him and muttering about broccoli, carrots and eggplants. Stiles stares after him. Note to self: stay away from Whittemore.

Boyd slaps him on the back as he passes them, giving Kate a single nod before disappearing into the sub and Kate turns to look at them, clasping her hands together.

“That was Jackson Whittemore, he’s the cook, careful about pissing him off, last person who really did that died mysteriously. It was meatloaf day.”

Without another word she turns around and stalks up the board into the ship. “Try not to get lost.” She calls, disappearing inside and Stiles turns to share a look with Allison and Scott. They shrug in unison and Stiles rolls his eyes before leading them up the ramp and into the submarine.

 

 

 

The submarine is only marginally less confusing than the ship they’d launched from was. Just marginally. Stiles would like to point out, as well, that being underwater is weird. He keeps feeling like he’s gotta be holding his breath, expecting water to just suddenly crush all the windows and flood them. So far it hasn’t happened. His brain is still whispering ‘it will happen’ no matter how much he argues it won’t.

So far he’s already managed to lose Allison and Scott, as well as himself. The sub is like a maze, one giant metal maze, that’s underwater. He sighs in relief when he finally manages to reach the door hatch with his name on it. It seems he’s rooming with an Isaac Lahey, an Alan Deaton, and Scott.

He pushes the door open, seeing two sets of bunk beds built into the wall, the set to his left seems to be empty, and then only the top bunk to his right has someone in it. His name is scrawled along the side of the bottom bunk so he drops his bag and flops onto the bed. His eyes are closed for maybe a second when he can feel someone staring at him. He peeks open an eye just to see a face literally an inch from his own.

He’ll never admit to it later but Stiles shrieks and sits up, smacking his forehead against the bunk above him and falling back down with a groan, holding his nose. The person who’d been staring right at him snorts a laugh and moves away a bit, standing straight and staring down at him. He’s got bright blue eyes and curly blond hair and the way he’s currently tilting his head to the side to stare at Stiles reminds Stiles distinctly of a confused puppy.

“I didn’t think I’d be getting a bunk-mate.” He says, out of nowhere and Stiles makes a questioning noise, still holding onto his nose and trying to see if he hit it hard enough to make it bleed.

“Stiles Stilinski… It doesn’t sound like a real name. Who names their kid Stiles? I thought they were just playing a joke on me or something.”

“Stiles isn’t technically my real name, but you wouldn’t be able to pronounce it, so Stiles is what I go by.” He manages, turning and letting his legs hang off the side of the bed. Isaac continues to look down at him like a puppy.

“Your glasses are crooked.” He says before shrugging and climbing back up onto his bed just in time for the door to open and someone else to walk in.  Stiles adjusts them with his one free hand, pulling them off first to see if he’d cracked them when he smacked his face into the top bunk. Luckily they seem fine.

The man is bald like Boyd, but without the fancy facial hair, and he’s dressed in scrubs and a long white coat so Stiles is going to assume he’s a doctor. The man gives him a quick look, sees him holding his nose, and looks up at Isaac on the bunk above him.

“Isaac. What did you do to Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles blinks. That didn’t even sound like a question. How does someone remove the questioning sound from a question? Isaac scoffs above him.

“Nothing. He sat up and smashed his face into the bunk all by himself.”

Stiles glares up above him. “No I didn’t! You were like, right by my face. You freaked me out, dude.”

The doctor sighs and walks across the room towards a table where there’s a large black bag set up.

“Well, Mr. Stilinski, at least you’re here. I’ve got to give you a quick checkup.” The doctor pulls out what appears to be a giant, shiny and sharp bone-saw and Stiles swallows thickly, watching with relief as the doctor puts that down and turns around with a wooden tongue depressor in his hand. He squats down in front of Stiles and holds out his hand. Stiles reluctantly shakes it.

“I’m Dr. Alan Deaton. I’m the head doctor here, as well as the head surgeon incase anything goes wrong. If you could remove your hand from your face and say ‘aah’ that would be most helpful.”

Stiles warily does as he says, sitting through the beginning of the basics of a normal checkup, just as Deaton is handing him two large glasses and telling him he needs them filled there’s an announcement on the intercom system.

“ _Will Stiles Stilinski please report to the bridge.”_

Stiles quickly escapes before Deaton asks him to pee in anything else.

 

 

 

When he finally manages to find his way to the bridge it’s to watch in awe as large underwater cliffs pass them by. Scott and Allison are sitting to one side, looking out into the ocean and talking among themselves. Commander Hale and Kate are standing up on a catwalk, from which Stiles guesses they can see and hear everything to the best advantage.

As school of fish flash by on one side of the large windows and Stiles walks by a red headed woman sitting bored at what appears to be a radio control station, there’s a lit cigarette hanging from her perfectly manicured fingers and Stiles can hear her talking to someone called ‘Danny’ before something buzzed and the girl turns around to yell at Peter that they’re approaching the coordinates.

There’s a low hum of chatter between all the people sitting at their controls as they talk to each other about different settings and degrees.

“Thank you, Ms. Martin. Let’s have a look around.” Commander Hale puts his hands forward and leans on the railing, staring out the large front windows and Kate nods beside him.

“Aye sir. Set course to 2-4-0 on the bow planes. Come right 2-4-0.” Stiles stops in the middle of the main floor of the bridge, staring around at everyone for a moment before looking outside at the dark waters. He frowns before walking up the stairs to the second floor where Commander Hale and Kate are.

“Welcome to the bridge, Mr. Stilinski.” Kate greets and Stiles nods to her before Peter steps into his line of vision. He’s not looking at Stiles though, he’s looking at everyone else on the second floor which appears to be a collection of random hands, Boyd, a woman Stiles hasn’t met, and Kate.

“Alright everyone, I want you to give Mr. Stilinski here you’re undivided attention.” Peter states before giving Stiles a nod and walking a few paces away. Scott and Allison have both somehow joined them up here and Scott gives him an encouraging nod while Stiles walks towards the projector. Tripping over his own feet and almost pulling all the slides down onto the ground. He hears Boyd chuckle for a second and feels his face go bright red before he rights himself and gives a nervous laugh.

“Okay! So… I’ve got some slides here, to show you, which is why you’re all gathered here, to uh, to see these slides and okay! So, this first one is a depiction of a creature that has been written down as being so frightening that every sailor who saw it was driven mad!”

The blond girl standing beside Boyd raises a single unimpressed eyebrow and obnoxiously snaps her gum. Leaning toward Boyd and whispering something that makes Boyd smirk.

Stile sticks the slide into the machine and an image pops up on their makeshift projector screen. It’s a large lobster looking illustration with pieces of a broken ship between its open claws and mouth. Allison gives him an encouraging smile and Stiles would just honestly like to say that he’d like to marry both Allison and Scott at the moment. He gives her a brief smile back and turns back towards the illustration on the board and adjusting his glasses back up his nose.

“This is an illustration of a Leviathan, which is supposedly one of the creatures guarding the entrance to Atlantis.”

The redhead at the control center leans her head on one hand and gives him an unimpressed look. “If we gave something like that to Whittemore he’d probably recommend serving it with a white wine.”

Stiles glares at her for a moment before continuing on.

“It’s a mythical sea serpent. It’s supposed to be absolutely massive and able to crush any sort of ship in its large claws. But most believe now that it’s probably some sort of carving or statue that’s standing in front of the gates, meant to frighten the superstitious” Stiles continues, flipping to another depiction of the monster.

“So we find this, lovely masterpiece, then what?” Isaac asks and Stiles jumps and turns around to find his new roommate standing almost directly behind him and Jesus, when the hell did he get there?! He can hear  few people laughing and he glares at Isaac, pushing him away for a moment before turning back around.

“Well the entrance to Atlantis isn’t technically a set of gates and then boom there it is…”

“So do we have to dig it up?” Boyd puts his hand up. “Or do I get to blow us a way in there?”

Stiles shakes his head and pulls the slide out so the board looks blank and he scrambles around for a piece of chalk to use.

“You should have to dig or blow anything up at all, actually. According to the journal the path to Atlantis is going to be past the Leviathan and it’ll be a tunnel that leads us to the bottom of the ocean before traveling up a curve and ending up in an air pocket. From this air pocket there should be another tunnel, this time above water which should act as a highway directly into Atlantis!”

Stiles finishes his crude drawing on the chalkboard and turns around with an enthusiastic smile.

The crew looks at him blankly with bored expressions for a bit before someone from the level above them calls out to Commander Hale.

“Captain. You’d better come look at this, sir.” All of them turn to see a harrier crew mate manning the steering wheel, staring out into the darkness with wide eyes.

Peter sighs and makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Alright, everyone dismissed. Daehler give me exterior lights.” He yells and Scott and Allison walk over to Stiles before they all walk to the railing and look out the windows like everyone else seems to be doing.

As soon as Stiles can get a clear view he understands why.

They’re closed in on either side by massive rock formations, all of which are littered with the detritus of what could easily be hundreds upon hundreds of sunken ships, all torn apart and strewn about like some toddler’s playthings after a tantrum. Stiles pulls his glasses off and wipes them on his shirt before putting them back on, as if the entire sight is just a product of filthy glasses. Head’s up; it’s not.

“There’s…. There’s ships from every era down here.” He quietly exclaims, looking around at all the different style shipwrecks. What the hell could do such a thing?

“Commander, I think you should hear this.” Lydia starts and Stiles ignores her, flipping open the journal and frantically trying to find the page about the Leviathan. His brain scrambles to translate in time and he can hear Lydia trying to get Commander Hale’s attention.

_Enter the lair of the Leviathan. There you will find the path to the gateway._

That’s all it says and Stiles frowns, looking back up outside when he hears Commander Hale finally answer Lydia’s insistent, yet somehow still cool-y bored and detached calls for his attention.

“Yes, Ms. Martin. What is it.” Again, someone else who apparently doesn’t know how to use question marks when asking questions. How do people do that, Stiles wonders incredulously. If he thought about doing that he’s sure he’d sound deranged.

“I’m picking up some noise on the hydrophone… I think you should hear it.”

Peter sighs and raises an eyebrow before motioning loosely above his head.

“Put it on the speakers, Ms. Martin.”

Almost immediately there’s the sound of water moving and deep almost sub-vocal growls echoing in the bridge chamber. There’s also an ominous thudding that seems to underlay all of it and everyone goes abruptly still to listen to it for a moment. Commander Hale frowns, walking over to Lydia’s station and leaning over her shoulder.

“Is that a pod of whales? You called me over to listen to a bunch of whales?”

Even from this far away Stiles can feel the amount of sass behind Lydia’s eye roll and she takes a slow drag of her cigarette, shaking her head.

“No. I didn’t call you over to listen to some fucking whales, Hale. I called you over to listen to something much bigger.”

Kate joins them over at Lydia’s station, leaning in to play with some of the many knobs on the control panel.

“It sounds almost…. Metallic. It could be our echo, coming off the rocks and the cliffs? Our propulsion could be making waves that are moving the old wrecks around us.”

Lydia slaps her hand away and gives her a look that is distinctly fire-y and Stiles falls kind of in love with Ms. Martin just then. Just a little.

“Do you wanna do my job, princess? Be my fucking guest.” Lydia almost snarls and okay, so maybe Stiles is more than just a little in love with this strawberry blonde goddess. He likes strong women, sue him.

“Uh guys?” He asks, pushing his glasses up and looking back out the windows warily. “Is it just me or is it—“

“Getting louder?” Scott finishes for him and they share a look. Everyone takes another second to listen in until suddenly the sound almost entirely disappears. Stiles minutely relaxes along with Scott and Allison.

“Whatever it was, it sounds like it’s gone now.” Allison speaks up and Peter walks away to stand directly in the center of the bridge on the main floor, turning to his right and yelling.

“Helmsman! Bring us about, tighten the search pattern and slow us down to—“

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before suddenly the entire sub is lurching backwards. Stiles falls into Scott who falls into Allison who somehow manages to keep all three of them standing and Stiles watches in horror as a large shape comes into view. It’s a gigantic claw, exactly as was depicted in the crude illustrations from the journal.

“Holy god. _It’s real_. The Leviathan is real.” Stiles’ mouth falls open and he stares as the large stone colored serpent slithers around them, shoving them off kilter and making everything suddenly angled, everyone listing to the left.

“TELL JACKSON TO BREAK OUT THE BIBS AND GET THAT BUTTER BOILING BECAUSE I WANT THIS LOBSTER SERVED UP ON A SILVER PLATTER WITH ALL THE DRESSINGS.” Commander Hale snarls, gripping the rails to the stairs tightly and Kate nods, her face determined as she runs up the stairs to the second level.

“Load the torpedo bays!” Kate yells, ensigns scrambling to their stations and yelling orders to each other. “Subpod crews, battle stations!” She doesn’t get out anymore before there’s another crash and one of the gigantic claws of the Leviathan are crashing into them. Loud alarms are going off and ringing in Stiles’ ears and he, Scott and Allison give each other helpless looks as they all try to stay standing upright. Stiles watches as the sub lurches again and Kate topples over the side of the railing, she doesn’t fall and hit the main floor though, she hangs on and pulls herself back up over rails, panting while she goes. She looks angry now and if Stiles had a tail it’d probably be hiding between his legs at the moment because holy shit is she terrifying, how is Allison related to this lady?

There’s another lurch as suddenly they’re grasped between the two smaller mandible claws of the Leviathan and the sub is turned completely on its side. Stiles and the others not strapped down slide across the floor and land with dull thuds on the windows, which are now acting as the floor with the angle the Leviathan is holding them at.

Stiles stares in horror at a glowing red light below him, staring directly into the face of the Leviathan. Then suddenly the glowing light shrinks and Stiles can see metal panels as the Leviathan appears to focus in on him against the window.

“Guys! It’s…. It’s a _freaking mACHINE_!” Stiles yells and he can hear someone curse beside him.

“Launch subpods!” Hale yells and the order is repeated a few times in quick order before the sub shakes lightly and Stiles watches hundreds of smaller subs zoom away and around them in a flurry of bubbles. They fire on Hale’s order when they’ve swam back close enough to the ship and the Leviathan releases them from its hold under the duress of the subpods.

The sub rights itself and Stiles ends up dropped on top of Scott with Allison sitting on his stomach as they’re suddenly sliding off the windows and ending up on the floor in a heap. Hale has somehow made it up to the second floor where Kate is still standing tall with a snarl on her face.

“Alright, we’re free. Full speed ahead, fire torpedoes!” Hale orders and Stiles watches as the Leviathan still comes swimming after them. It roars, the sound still being caught by the hydrophone and played on the speakers, and then suddenly it lights up a vibrant blue in weird lines all over it before the lines converge and the Leviathan appears to job them with a concentrated bolt of lightning, _what the fuck_.

Stiles scrambles to grab the journal that fell out of his hands amongst the tossing and turning while Peter talks down to engineering where it sounds like it’s started to flood absolutely everything.

“Let’s move!” Hale yells and then suddenly he and Allison and Scott are being shoved by ensign down another flight of stairs from the main floor.

“Move? Move where?!” Stiles yells, but the ensign says nothing, just continues to shove them down the stairs. Stiles can hear Kate yelling at Lydia before Lydia’s voice is suddenly booming over the speakers.

_“All hands, abandon ship.”_

Scott grabs Stiles arm and Stiles tries to keep a hold of him back, following Allison closely and trying not to lose them. Another and grabs him by the other arm and Stiles looks up to see Doctor Deaton giving him a grim look.

“This way, you three.”

Suddenly they’re being pulled down more hallways and shoved once more down through a doorway into what appears to be another little sub just like the subpods.

Kate comes storming in after them, Peter hot on her heels and she storms to the front of the ship. “Alright everyone buckle up, if you’re not buckled in you’ll probably die, so grab a seat.” She snarls before sitting down in one of the front seats and buckling herself in. Hale sits in the seat beside her and immediately they both start flicking switches and turning control panels on.

“Get us out of here Lieutenant.” Hale growls and Kate gives him a murderous look in return.

“ _I’m working on it.”_

A large rumble shakes them and if Stiles had to guess he’d guess that the Leviathan had just shot them with another dose of underwater lightning. Which, under different circumstances Stiles would probably find really freaking neat. Right now, though, his heart is beating heavy in his neck and his hands are shaking as he manages to buckle himself in between the Doctor and the blonde girl from the meeting before.

He spares a brief second to think about Boyd, and even his weird roommate Isaac before Kate is yelling at them to hold on and they shoot out into the water amidst a cloud of debris that seems to have been there ship.

“Deucalion’s gonna be pissed!” He yells and Scott barks a laugh from where he’s buckled in across from him, Allison at her side.

“Stiles!” She yells and Stiles shrugs, clutching the journal tight in his hands to try and stop the shaking of them. His knees start bouncing instead as they’re rocked back and forth by the waves of the Leviathan thrashing around behind them.

“Alright, Mr. Stilinski!” Peter catches his attention and he turns to look at the front where the Commander is peering back at him, an eyebrow raised. “Where to next?”

Stiles stutters for a moment before answering. Remembering the maps in the journal held between his hands.

“We’re probably looking for a large crevice of some kind. Like, a split between two pieces of Earth kinda like tectonic plates, except not. It’d look pretty unassuming, I’m assuming, almost like it’s just a change in rock height and it should be—“

“There! Up ahead!” Hale interrupts and Stiles snaps his mouth shut.

“Alright, all crafts, make your mark. 20 degrees, down angle.”

There are quiet answers of agreement from where Peter has got the comm lines open between the remaining subpods and evacuation ships.

_“Fuck we’re getting killed out here.”_

Their ship rumbles for a second before everything goes black.

 

 

 

“Stiles… Stiles come on man, you gotta breath with me, it’s alright. Come on.” Scott’s voice slowly filters through the darkness and Stiles can tell that he’s got his head between his knees, his lungs gasping for air. Scott’s hand is rubbing his back in soothing circles and he’s counting his breaths so Stiles can follow along. Distantly Stiles can hear Peter talking about their loses and someone sends a candle out onto the sea in a metal hat, Allison is sitting in front of him when he looks up, her face concerned and her hair a mess. He gives her a weak smile and she gives him one back, reaching out and grabbing one of his hands.

“Hey, buddy.” Scott says quietly and Stiles lists over to his side just enough to briefly lean against Scott, Scott pushes back lightly but makes sure his breathing is still distinguishable for Stiles to follow along with its even pace.

“Thanks.” He manages to croak out after a few more moments and Scott wraps an arm around his shoulder to give him a half hug for a quick second.

“No problem, man. What are best friends for?”

Stiles finally clues in to Commander Hale’s words.

“From here on in , everyone pulls double duty. Everyone drives, everyone works. It seems like all our chances for survival now rest with you, Mr. Stilinski.” Everyone turns to look at him and he quickly attempts to stand up.

“We’re all gonna die.” A voice pipes up and everyone turns to see Jackson Whittemore with his arms crossed, looking at Stiles.

“We’re putting our lives in the hands of some twelve year old kid who can read scribbles. Brilliant. At least we’ll die before we run out of this shitty fucking food.” He rants and a hand comes out of the small gathering to punch Jackson in the arm. The blonde woman laughs when Lydia steps out and gives Jackson a hot glance.

“If we haven’t already died from your shitty cooking, Jackson, then we won’t be dying at the hands of Stilinski over there. Though, I wouldn’t mind if you did. It’d certainly shut you up for a few goddamn seconds.” She ends her retort by lighting a cigarette and blowing the smoke in the cook’s face, making Jackson sputter in outrage.

“Good on, Martin.” The blonde leers and Lydia gives her a jaunty salute.

“All in a day’s work, Reyes.”

Boyd sighs and turns expectantly to Commander Hale, Hale looks around at the small group of people left before he nods.

“Alright then, everyone saddle up. Lieutenant, I want this convoy moving five minutes ago!”

Kate nods and starts pointing people in different directions to the small amount of equipment that was in the subpods and the evacuation pods.

“Lahey, you’re on point.” Isaac stares at her for a second before nodding once and turning away to hop into the large drilling machine. “Boyd, step away from the oiler, Reyes is taking that, you know the rules.” Boyd puts his hands up in surrender, a faux innocent look on his face that makes Stiles want to snort. “I want you 50 yards behind that truck at all times, we don’t need another incident. Martin, put out the cigarette!” Lydia rolls her eyes and continues to smoke, making Kate growl.

Scott and Allison drag Stiles over to a small truck when Kate points to them and then towards the truck, Allison getting behind the wheel while Scott and Stiles squeeze in beside her. Commander Hale appears out of seemingly nowhere, raising an eyebrow at Allison.

“Ms. Argent. Am I to assume you’re completely capable of driving this class of vehicle.” Allison gives him an unimpressed look.

“Listen, Commander. Kate isn’t the only one in my family with military training. I could drive this thing with my eyes closed. I assure you.”

Peter grins, giving a sarcastic nod before backing away.

“Alrighty then. Let’s see what you can do Ms. Argent.” He motions towards the large carved out cave at the top of a set of large steps that they’re currently in front of.

“Ms. Argent will be taking point instead, Lahey.” Peter yells and Stiles can hear a sigh and a quiet “yes, sir.”

“Good luck, Ms. Argent, Mr. McCall, Mr. Stilinski.” Peter slaps the front of the truck and gives them a grin before disappearing around behind them.

“He kinda creeps me out.” Scott mumbles and Stiles nods in agreement, leaning on Scott a little more when he feels a wave of shivers pass over him. Hopefully the after effects of his panic attack don’t stay the entire drive.

 

 

They travel for what feels like weeks down in the tunnels. Stopping for food and water breaks, collecting water from any natural spring they come across. Scott and Allison get along with everyone else absolutely swimmingly, and they sit around the campfire every night they stop to eat with the others and make chitchat. The first time Stiles tried to do that Scott and Allison were the only two to include him in conversation. Stiles didn’t mind he’s kind of used to it. All through high school it was basically the same, Stiles understands. He’s not cool enough to sit with the cool kids. He just… Kind of wishes he was.

These people are all the same people who’ve worked with his mom on different expeditions, all he can think about is how many different stories they must have of her. Some nights he opens his wallet and pulls out the worn down picture of him, his mother and his father.

He didn’t know his dad very well, he died in a police accident when Stiles was around four years old, so it was mainly his mom and grandma who raised him, when they weren’t off exploring dangerous places that is.

It was when Stiles was fifteen that his mother died, it was a cancer that she’d caught, made her slowly waste away until she was barely strong enough to breathe. Stiles was there that night in the hospital when she passed away. It was gentle. She was sleeping. She just…. Never woke up.

Ms. McCall took him in after that, refusing to let him out of her sight, she even helped him move into their guest room. He and Scott were like brothers all throughout elementary school, and then finally it was like they were real brothers for high school.

Stiles sighs and puts the photo away, moving to the side and picking up the journal to consult the maps for the next day while the sounds of laughter echo along the tunnel walls.

 

 

 

Stiles and Scott know a thing or two about practical jokes. There are many incidents that they have both sworn to never speak of again, like the Broken Bathtub Incident of twenty of six, that’s right, it’s even capitalized it was such a big thing. So Stiles and Scott have often had practical joke wars against each other, it’s a funny way to pass the time, and when you manage to get physical evidence of a bro’s misfortune that makes it even better because blackmail material.

And yet, somehow these explorers are showing Stiles and Scott a million new, and better, practical jokes. Like one day Stiles is chugging water from a canteen, absolutely parched from running ahead of the group so he could look a little longer at the hieroglyphs that are scattered all over the tunnel walls.

So, Stiles had been chugging down the contents of the canteen with absolute vigor, up until Boyd had popped up behind him.

“Um. Stiles?”

“Mm?” Stiles turns around, pulling the bottle away from his face and wiping his mouth of his shirt sleeve.

“You didn’t just drink that whole thing, did you?”

Stiles nods, holding up the empty container.

“Yeah, sorry. I can go get you some more water if you want, there’s a spring just a little ways up ahead—“

Boyd blinks, his face blank.

“That’s… Stiles you just drank nitroglycerin, you can’t just find that from a spring.”

“WHAT?!”

Boyd holds his hands out and Stiles freezes.

“Don’t move, you idiot. You know what, don’t breathe either. Don’t do, like, anything at all except maybe pray.” Stiles stares at the man with wide eyes until suddenly someone shouts behind him.

“BOOM!” And he jumps, whirling around to find Isaac hunched over and laughing his ass off. He can hear more chuckling behind him and he turns to see Boyd grinning.

“Oh, yeah, very funny. Assholes.”

As Stiles is walking away he can still hear Isaac giggling and whispering ‘boom’ over and over. Stiles rolls his eyes.

So yeah, these guys have been showing Scott and him a thing or two about practical jokes.

Doesn’t mean Stiles has to really enjoy them.

 

 

 

Stiles stares with wide eyes up at the pillar blocking the road in front of them. There’s a large chasm behind it, but Stiles can’t stop staring up at the giant thing. It’s intricately carved and it’s got to be at least half a mile high. He says so out loud and Boyd snorts from where he’s crouched in front of it, wires connecting dynamite bundle to dynamite bundle. Stiles heart aches just looking at all those explosives. He knows they need to knock the pillar down to continue on their journey but it still hurts to know they’re destroying something so beautiful as this.

“Come on Boyd, look at it. It must have taken hundreds, maybe even thousands of years to carve this thing. Do you think they just carved it straight from stone? Or was it here already? Was it a stalactite that had just grown absolutely massive over the years? Building and building in size as layers of mineralized water dripped down from the ceiling of the cave? Like, just imagine how old this thing is, it’s absolutely incredible!”

Boyd wraps an arm around his waist, carrying him off under his arm like a sack of potatoes as he walks a distance away from the detonation area.

“Yeah, and if you keep standing so close to my dynamite, you’re gonna be part of these old tunnel walls. How incredible is that, Stilinski?”

Stiles opens his mouth to retort when Boyd drops him on the group and pushes down the detonation lever. The tunnel shakes for a moment and Stiles watches sadly as the pillar cracks and falls over, creating a bridge for them to cross with.

“Another incredible thing, Stilinski. It took them thousands of years, you say, to make a lousy pillar. Well I’d just created a bridge in what, ten seconds? Eleven seconds tops.” Boyd pats him on the head before hopping into the front seat of the drill beside Lahey and then they’re off again.

 

 

 

It takes a few days more for them to reach what looks like an entire wall blocking their path. The surface is also carved and Stiles is reverently touching the stone, the journal open in his hand as he tries to translate any words that may be carved into the stone. He can hear Scott and Allison talking, and he knows that if he turned around to look they’d probably be holding hands and cuddling.

“Boyd, what do you think?” Commander Hale says behind him, and he can practically hear Boyd shrug.

“I could unblock it, if I had about 200 sticks of dynamite, thing is I’ve only got about ten, plus five of my own, maybe three cherry bombs, and enough ingredients to make five Molotov cocktails – which won’t do any good here. Hey, Stilinski, it’s too bad we haven’t anymore nitroglycerin, eh?” Boyd calls and Stiles rolls his eyes while he can hear Isaac bust up laughing.

“Laugh it up, fuzzball.” Stiles mutters under his breath, adjusting his glasses and turning around to look at the crew standing around. 

“Well then, it looks like it’s time to dig. Lahey! Start her up!” Hale yells and Isaac immediately stops laughing and just grins.

“Aye, aye, Commander.”

It’s absolutely hilarious then, that not even two seconds after the drill starts to bore into the wall, the machine sputters out and dies on him. Stiles grins. Serves him right, the fucking dickhead. Stiles brain is filled with half-formed joke ideas that he could get back at Boyd and Isaac with as he watches Erica growl and stomp towards the smoking machine.

“Fuck me!” Isaac whines, slamming his face down onto the steering wheel. Stiles wishes he had a camera.

“I don’t fucking understand any of this, I just tuned this thing up this morning!” She grumbles and Stiles follows after her, watching as she tinkers around in the back of the tank for a moment before she slithers back out, a smear of grease on her arm and her hair in a slightly frizzy ponytail under a worn denim cap.

“It looks like the rotor’s shot, so I’m gonna have to pull a spare from one of the trucks.” She starts mumbling to herself about the different models they’ve got and who could do without a rotor, when Stiles takes a peek into the back and recognizes the make and model on the boiler. He looks over at Erica where she’d leaned over under the hood of the nearby trucks, before he turns back around and fiddles with a few knobs and levers, listening for a tell-tale hiss before grabbing a wrench Erica left lying around and slamming it against one of the main pipes. The machine immediately starts back up again and Stiles himself slithers out of the truck, grease along his arms and probably on his face after he adjusts his glasses again.

“What did you do.”

Stiles jumps and shrieks, turning around to see Erica staring up at him, her arms crossed and her eyes boring into his very soul.

“Well, y’know…. The boiler in this thing is a Carver model, P54/813 and back in Beacon Hills at the museum we’ve got the 814. Carver models are notorious for having tricky heating cores, sometimes you gotta just… persuade them a little.”

Her expression and posture don’t change, and she doesn’t back away from where she’s got him cornered against the back of the drill.

“Persuade them.” She says blankly and Stiles makes a noise of agreement, nodding his head and pulling his hands up in front of him in a gesture of innocence and _‘do not harm me please oh please, scary mechanic lady’_.

“Yeah, I’ll show you next time, if you want, it’s kind of hard to explain. I tried to do it once for Scott, but it all flew like right over his head, poor guy. He still turns deathly white if I say the word ‘lubricant’.”

Erica looks him up and down once before slowly nodding.

“Alright.” She brings a hand up and Stiles flinches, knowing about her habit of punching literally everyone and everything. She grins, suddenly and punches him in the arm twice.

She walks away a bit, getting into the oiler and leaning out the window of it to give him a wink. “Two for flinching, Stilinski! You gotta learn!” Stiles rubs at his sore arm and follows alongside everyone as they begin drilling a tunnel through the wall.

It takes them till supper time to get all the way through, and when they finally do they’re met with a glowing green chandelier like form up in the middle of the ceiling of the cave. There’s a bridge that leads across a wide chasm that surrounds them and Stiles flips open the journal, showing Commander Hale the Illustration of said natural chandelier and the Commander nods.

“Alright. We’re making camp here, tonight people! Let’s settle down and get some sleep before tomorrow!”

It doesn’t take long to unpack the tents and set up camp, they’ve all done it so many times by now that even Stiles is a whizz at pitching his tent. He stays sitting in the entryway to his tent, his feet bare and crossed with the journal propped in his lap while the others are a few meters away, gathered around the campfire. Jackson makes his rounds with a large pot of whiskey baked beans, grumbling to himself about what he wouldn’t do to get at least one vegetable around here. He hands a heaping bowl to Stiles, standing beside his tent and staring down at him. Stiles grabs the bowl but puts it down beside him and Jackson huffs, making him look up.

“Come on, Stilinski. I know not all of us can be as big as Boyd, but I swear to god if you don’t get some meat on your bones you’re gonna fly away in a stray wind. Eat the damn food.” Stiles blinks up at Jackson in shock, watching as the cook stomps away to go feed the other crew members.

“He likes you, y’know.” A voice pipes up and Stiles startles, almost dumping the beans all over the journal. When he puts the bowl down a second time and looks up it’s to see Lydia staring after Jackson, a wistful look on her face.

Stiles raises an eyebrow and she grins down at him for a terrifying second.

“He does. He always gives you a larger portion than everyone else, he watches you sometimes to make sure you eat it all. You’ve been skipping meals during the day, running ahead to look at the writing on the walls and inspect everything. He’s trying to make sure you don’t die.”

“Alright, maybe.” Stiles concedes, not quite sure he believes the redhead. She looks down at him and holds out the hand not currently holding a lit cig. He eyes it warily. She snorts an indelicate laugh and motions him to take her outstretched hand. When he does she pulls him up so he’s standing with surprising strength.

“Come on, kid. Come sit with the rest of us.” Stiles looks over to where it appears Isaac is telling a very enthusiastic story to Scott while Allison talks to Boyd across the flames. Stiles bites his lip, adjusting his glasses and clutching his book like a life-line. He picks up his supper in the other and gives Lydia a skeptical glance.

“I dunno, you guys all seem pretty close, and I’m gonna read anyways, so it’s not like—“ Lydia deftly grabs the journal from his hands and starts walking backwards towards the fire, shaking it tauntingly.

“You want your book back, Stilinski? Join us.”

Stiles sighs and follows after her, making halfhearted attempts at lunging and grabbing the book back, but Lydia simply sits down beside Deaton at the fire, patting the space beside her and so Stiles sinks down. The crew surprisingly greet him enthusiastically, Isaac sticking his tongue out and making an immature face and Stiles making one back. Boyd eyes the book Lydia’s holding before turning to Stiles.

“Stiles, don’t you ever close that book?”

“Yeah,” Erica pipes up, pursing her lips for a second before grinning. “You must’ve read it, what… a dozen, two dozen times by now?”

Stiles gives them a fake glare and they both just grin at him, unrepentant.

“I know, I know, it’s just… I’m stuck, there’s this page that doesn’t make any sense!” Stiles leans over and somehow manages to steal the book from Lydia’s hands just as Jackson sits down with them. “See, this passage here, the shepherd looks like it’s leading up to something. Something he calls the ‘Heart of Atlantis’. I believe that it’s the power source the legends refer to, but then it’s like… It just cuts off. The next page has nothing to do with it. It’s almost like the journal’s missing a page. I’ve been rereading it, trying to see if maybe I’m mistranslating it but I don’t think so.”

Isaac throws a little pebble across the campfire and it lands on the book in Stiles lap, Stiles looks up and Isaac gives him a jaunty little sneer.

“Dude, we don’t get paid overtime.” Stiles rolls his eyes and closes the book.

“Look, I know sometimes I can get carried away—“ Scott snorts across the way and Stiles flips him off, making the crowd titter for a moment. Scott just blows him a kiss back and Allison shakes her head but she’s got a fond grin on her face. She’s been putting up with their shenanigans for a long time, bless her soul.

“As I was saying. I know I get carried away but that’s what this is about, isn’t it? Discovery, teamwork, adventure…” Stiles trails off, looking at the blank faces of the people around the fire. He gives them an unimpressed look. “Unless you lot are just in it for the money.”

There’s a round of agreement where everyone says that, yep. They’re in it for the money. And Stiles sighs.

“I pretty much just set myself up for that one.” Boyd laughs at him and he wrinkles his nose at the mustachioed man. They sit around the fire for a little while longer before slowly but surely they all separate off to their tents.

Stiles is sitting outside his tent when Erica walks by, peeling off her boots and unrolling her sleeping bag.

“Erica?” She turns to look at him her hair in a loose ponytail and her cap on the ground beside her shoes.

“Yeah, Stilinski?”

“How’d you end up being the chief mechanic on a multimillion dollar expedition to find a mythical city?”

She grins at him, a soft smile he’s never seen from her before, before rolling over and settling down on top of her sleeping bag, her head propped up on her hands and her elbows resting on the ground while she lays on her stomach facing him.

“I took this job cause my dad retired. We needed the money, and Dad’s so old now that it hurts him to even get up in the morning’s let alone go work. He always wanted sons, y’know, one to run his shop and the other to be a middleweight boxing champion. Those were his goals, but he got me and my sister instead.”

“So… What happened to your sister? If here you are?” She grins at him, winking.

“She’s 24 and 0 with a shot at the title next month. Anyways, I’m here cause the money I’ll be making from this thing, Dad and I wanna open another shop, and with this money we could do that, as well as hire some outside workers so Dad doesn’t have to run himself ragged anymore. What about you…. What was it you said? Discovery, teamwork, adventure?”

Stiles looks down at his hands where they’re clasped in his lap and allows a small smile.

“My dad, he died when I was really young, there’s not many memories I’ve got of him. But my mom? My mom was my everything. She raised me up with the help of my babcia, even while she went out on crazy adventures to find stolen treasures and things. Babcia taught her everything she knew, being scientists and adventurers is in the Stilinski blood. The last time I was out like this, camping on the ground and sitting around campfires was a few years before she died. But the first time we did it, I was around seven or eight.”

“We were hiking along a stream in the forest surrounding Beacon Hills, and I saw something shining in the water. It was an arrowhead, like an actual genuine arrowhead. But how my mom acted, man you would’ve thought I’d found an entire lost civilization on my own. She even called babcia up just to tell her about it. About how my first expedition I discovered an artifact. Babcia said it was in my blood to find things and solve puzzles. It wasn’t until quite a few years later I realized that really it was just a piece of shiny rock that had split into an arrowhead shape. Compressed shale and zinc pyrite if I remember correctly.”

“Awe.” a voice beside him pipes up and Stiles looks over to see Isaac sprawled in the doorway of his own tent, grinning over at the two of them.

It’s at that moment that Lydia walks by, tossing an eye mask directly at Stiles’ head. She gives him a smirk. Tossing a set to Isaac and Erica as well.

“You guys are gonna want these.” Is all she says before turning around and stalking off, Stiles is still looking down at the mask with confusion when Boyd ambles over and settles into Erica’s tent beside her.

“Lydia’s right, you are going to want those. We’ve got Jackson sleeping at the end of our little group of tents, and he sleeps naked.”

Stiles blinks at Boyd and Erica gives Boyd a look.

“And how exactly would you know that?” She asks and Boyd grins.

“He sleepwalks.”

Isaac snorts a short laugh and disappears into his tent, and after a brief mental break from the terrible mental image Boyd just put into his brain Stiles follows suit and settles down. He lays down on his stomach, still facing out at Erica and Boyd now.

“What about you, Boyd? Why are you here?”

“Me?” Boyd snorts. “I’m here cause I like to blow stuff up.”

Even Stiles can hear Isaac’s laughter from his tent and Erica punches Boyd in the shoulder.

“Shut up, you fucking liar. Tell him the truth.”

Boyd rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “My family owned a flower shop, the most popular one in town actually. Been running it for generations. We sold roses, carnations, baby’s breath, you name it we had it. So then one year it’s prom season, and I shit you not I’m making about three dozen corsages for prom, and almost every single day, someone was in there ‘where is it’ ‘when will it be done’ ‘does it match my dress?’. It was a complete and total nightmare. Anyway, so next door to us was this laundry place, and apparently there was a gas leak or something because the next thing I know. BOOM! I go flying right out the window, and all the flowers burn around me. It was like a sign from God or something. I found myself in that boom.” Boyd finishes and Stiles can still hear Isaac faintly laughing.

“What about you, Isaac?” He asks and Isaac’s curly head of hair pops out for a second, just long enough for him to shrug.

“I knew Peter from before he was a Commander, he helped me through some things. Got me this job and quite a few before it, I owe him my life basically.”

Everyone sits quietly for a moment before Stiles starts up again, his curiosity burning.

“So what about Deaton? What’s his story?”

Erica opens her mouth with a wide grin and Boyd immediately slaps a large hand across her face, covering her mouth and looking at Stiles with wide eyes.

“Trust me, on this one, kid. You don’t wanna know. Erica, don’t tell him. You shouldn’t have told me, and yet you did, and now I’m telling you, Stiles, _you don’t wanna know_.”

 

 

Stiles doesn’t know what time it is, but what he does know is his bladder is screaming terrible things to him. So he gets up, grabbing a flashlight and creeps out of his tent, down and around the corner of a few rocks and does his business. He’s just zipping his pants back up when he looks up and accidentally shines his flashlight on the natural chandelier, making it light up brighter than it was before.

“Huh.”

Stiles watches, fascinated as the light seems to move, leaving the rock chandelier and flowing down towards him. It takes him only a few moments to realize that the light is made up of fireflies, a few floating close to him and he smiles. So the chandelier must be a nest of some kind, a place where they all like to stay.

A firefly floats down gently, touching his pant leg and setting it on fire, making his eyes widen and he immediately flails his hands and pats out the little fire. When he looks up it’s to see tons of the little fireflies floating above the camp, but as soon as they land on the tent’s the tents begin to go up in flames.

Maybe firefly is a perfect name for these things, but he’s pretty sure normal fireflies don’t do that.

“Fire!” He yells, looking around for a bucket of water. He runs between the tents, trying to wake up as many people as he can. “Fire! There’s a fire!” Heads peek out and Stiles looks back up at the nest only to see a large cloud of the fire-y fireflies descending upon them.

Immediately the place is awake and moving, Kate yelling orders at anyone who’ll listen.

“Get some water on that fire!” She yells and Commander Hale comes out of his tent, takes one look at the scene and shakes his head, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

“There’s no time! Get into the trucks and get into those caves across the bridge! Move it, move it, move it!”

Immediately everyone becomes a little more calm, getting everyone awake and away from the burning tents, loading up into the trucks and beginning the journey across the bridge. Stiles almost misses his own ride but Erica shouts at him, holding a hand out from the back of one of the trucks and he runs after her, clasping her hand and jumping just in time for her to pull his skinny ass on board.

The evacuation is going fine until one of the guys driving the large tanks of flammable substances tries to drive forward onto the bridge only for his engine to catch fire and then subsequently explode, causing the containers on the back of his truck to explode in a fire-filled domino effect. This domino streak ends with the explosion breaking that side of the bridge while everyone else is on the now trapped on the collapsing bridge.

Stiles can see Isaac struggling at the front of the line, the drill not cooperating as the bridge collapse more and becomes too steep of an angle. They fall into the darkness.

 

 

 

The first thing Scott hears above the ringing in his own ears is Commander Hale’s voice in the darkness.

“Alright, who’s not dead. Sound off.”

A few voices echo and groan, and then the second thing Scott sees above the darkness right in front of him is a slight light to his left appearing. When he turns to look it’s to see Commander Hale has switched on the front lights of one of the fallen vehicles, illuminating them in their current predicament.

If Scott had known being an explorer was this dangerous he would have found some way to convince Stiles not to go.

There’s a groan to his right and he sees Allison buried under a small pile of boxes. He helps her out and helps her to her feet, checking her over and asking standard questions to see how hurt she really is.

“Reyes, damage report.” Hale yells and Scott can hear Erica rummaging around a little to their right.

“It’s not as bad as it could have been, Commander. It seems we’ve totaled rigs two and four but the digger looks like it’s at least minimally functional. Lucky for us and the machines, we’ve landed on something somewhat soft.” She speaks up, her voice echoing around the small chamber they seem to be in, and Scott helps Allison get over the wreckage of boulders and rocks to the main area where it seems like everyone is convening. 

“Pumice ash.” Isaac says and everyone turns to look at him, Jackson slowly making his way over and Deaton wandering around the far edges, helping people up and checking them for any serious damage.

“What?” Kate asks and Isaac crouches down, swiping his finger along the ground and bringing it up to his mouth where he licks the dirt before nodding.

“We’re standing at the base of a dormant volcano.”

They all look above them and Kate walks away for a second only to come back with a flare gun, which she shoots up the tunnel they’d just fallen down.

“It just…. It just keeps going.”

“Maybe this’s our ticket out of here—“ Boyd starts and they all stare as the flare explodes and fades out some few thousand feet above them. Kate frowns.

“Maybe not.”

“The magma has solidified in a blockage of sorts up there. A thick layer of the magma was probably exposed to the air before, and it cooled it, then that layer just stayed there as the levels of magma receded back into the earth.” Isaac says, his neck still craned back to look up at where Kate’s flare exploded.

“So, wait.” Allison starts, leaning against Scott’s side “What you’re saying is that the exit is blocked and this whole volcano could still blow at any time but we’d have no way of escaping?”

Isaac shakes his head and turns to give them all a look.

“No, no. To make this thing erupt again would take an explosive force of a great magnitude.” He trails off and everyone turns to look at Boyd who puts his hands up, palm facing outwards towards everybody.

“I haven’t done anything. Stop looking at me like that.”

Commander Hale steps forward, his hand on his chin and his face contemplative. “If we could blow this blockage out of the way, we’d technical have a straight shot to the surface. Mr. Stilinski, what do you think?”  Everyone turns different ways, looking for Stiles and it’s for the first time that Scott notices his best friend is nowhere in sight.

“Stiles? Stiles!”

 

 

 

Stiles wakes up in the dark, his head feels heavy and there’s something about him that aches but he’s not sure what. His vision is fuzzy, his glasses aren’t on his nose, and when he tries to bring his right hand around to feel on the ground for them he finds its trapped under a decent sized rock.

His ears are ringing but he can hear a murmuring, kind of like voices, close by.

He tries to sit up as best he can, but finds his entire chest shoots full of pain and he cries out before flopping back down onto the ground, breathing heavily. The murmurs stop and then suddenly Stiles’ glasses are being lowered onto his face and his vision clears, only that can’t be right, because Stiles didn’t grab his glasses, and what he’s seeing is a group of extremely large masks with glowing blue eyes .

Stiles stares wide eyed.

_“ <<He’s stuck. Sister help me.>>”_

“What?” Stiles tries to start, only to start coughing, he can feel the dust on his exposed skin, and it’s no doubt in the air, but as soon as his body starts moving every single nerve ending in Stiles’ body screams in pain.

_“ <<Brother, we should leave him. His kind are not far, they will help him.>>”_

The mask in front of him growls and is suddenly being lifted up to reveal literally the most beautiful human being Stiles has ever laid eyes on. His body is well muscled, his arms and chest dusted with pale white hair to match the striking white hair that’s atop his head. His jaw is strong and wide, his cheekbones look sharp enough to cut glass and his eyes are glowing blue, like the mask, for a few moments before they slowly fade into a bright green-y hazel.

Stiles can feel sweat forming around his temples as the pain of his chest and his arm stuck under the rock at an awkward angle

 _“ <<I’m here to help, please lie still.>>”_ The man says in a soft voice, his hands held out in front of him and Stiles’ head flops back onto the dirt, his eyes sliding shut. His brain is a little slow on the uptake, but he knows for a fact that this man and his companions in the masks aren’t speaking English, yet somehow he’s still understanding them.

His brain ticks for a moment while the man comes closer, putting his hands on one side of the rock and looking down at Stiles, concerned.

 _Atlantean, they’re speaking Atlantean._ His brain whispers and he shakes his head. No, that can’t be right. Even if Atlantis was real, everyone would be long dead by now.

The man convinces the one he calls Sister to help him and they count quietly between themselves for a moment before lifting the rock and throwing it to the side. As soon as the pressure is off Stiles arm he can’t help but make a noise of pain again. Trying to curl his arm in towards himself but being too weak to manage.

 _“ <<Shh, sh. I can help. I can help_.>>” The man keeps repeating, his brows furrowed in what seems to be worry as he leans over Stiles face, looking him in the eyes.

 _“ <<I understand, just do it quickly.>>”_ Stiles manages to say back and all three of the people freeze. The other two pull their masks off and stare down at him.

_“ <<Brother, he speaks—>>“_

_“ <<I know.>>”_ The man cuts one of the women off and he grabs Stiles face with his hands. Stiles finds himself focusing on what appear to be pale blue tattoos marking the skin under the man’s left eye, a single dot between the corner of his eye and his nose, and two crescent moon shapes under his eye, the larger of the two resting atop his cheekbone.

He watches as the moon reaches down to touch his chest and he flinches, causing the man’s hand to retreat for a second before it returns. The man grabs a glowing crystal that’s hanging around his neck and pulls it forward, touching it to Stiles chest and then to his arm, before pulling away and putting a hand in both places he touched with the crystal.

A blue light seems to emanate from his hands on Stiles skin, and Stiles notes with a striking clarity that the man’s hands are so warm they feel almost like brands against his skin. But along with the heat of his hands, Stiles can feel his own pain receding and when the man finally takes his hands off Stiles skin and leans back, Stiles finally sits up, looking down to watch as two glowing hand prints slowly fade from his skin.

He looks back up at the man with wide eyes, just in time to see all three of the people slip their masks back on and bound away.

A second later the ground starts to shake and Stiles turns around, chasing after them and trying to follow whatever path they’re taking. He doesn’t even think about the fact that he’s climbing over rocks and scrambling over obstacles like he’s been doing parkour all his life, his arm and chest feel good as new. In fact, his entire body feels energized in a way it’s never felt before, and he can hear the drill following after him at a breakneck speed but he doesn’t care. He continues following the people in the masks.

“Hey! Wait!” Stiles yells. “Come back!” Stiles emerges from the dark tunnel out into the closest thing to daylight he’s seen in weeks, and he squints against the sudden change. There’s a wet breeze blowing his tank stop around, the moisture sticking to his skin and if he looks down the edge of the cliff there appears to be a sea of lava surrounding a floating island and sea. He blinks, his breath caught in his throat as tiny specks of moisture latch onto the front of his glasses and blur his vision just slightly.

Behind him he can heard the digger drill through the rock side and stop, and he listens to the sound of footsteps coming up behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Stiles. What the fuck was that? We get in a massive accident and before I can even check that my best friend is okay, you’ve fucked right off on some journey through more cave tunnels!” Scott yells and Stiles turns just in time to get hugged within an inch of his life by his best friend.

“Holy shit, Stilinski!” Isaac gasps.

“It’s beautiful.” Erica mutters and Boyd comes up to slap him on the back after Scott lets him go.

“Stilinski, I gotta hand it to you, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Before anyone else can say anything five figures jump down from atop the driller, and Stiles’ eyes widen when he notices it was the people in the large masks from before.

“Who the hell are these guys.” Commander Hale barks, his hand automatically going to his hip holster and Stiles lunges forward, stopping him from pulling his gun out.

“No! Ah… Um. Commander Hale. These are…. These are Atlanteans.” He manages to stutter out, removing his hand from Commander Hale’s person under Peter’s deathly glare of death. He takes a step back but watches as the Commander doesn’t immediately pull his gun out so he counts it as a win.

“What?” Kate hisses, turning to look back at Stiles with a shocked expression. “You can’t be serious. _Atlanteans_? That’s impossible!”

They all stay silent, cornered against the edge of the cliff side by the five masked Atlanteans and their large spears and knives. The one in the middle with the biggest mask steps forward and Stiles recognizes the mask as the one that belongs to the face of the man from in the caves who healed him not a few moments prior.

The mask stays on as the man begins talking behind it.

 _“ <<We are people of Atlantis, what are you doing so far in the caves?>>”_ He begins and Isaac pokes Stiles in the back, making him flinch.

“I think they’re talking to you, kid.”

 _“ <<This land is protected by many things, we have been watching you defeat all our defenses. Who are you? And what do you want?>>”_ The man speaks again, slamming the butt of his spear against the ground a few times.

Stiles slowly steps forward, his brain trying to slowly work through the language he’s spent years studying to read but not the say.

 _“ <<We are from the land above the sea.>>”_ Stiles haltingly starts, his brain rushing to find the right words. They feel foreign on his tongue, but he powers through it.

 _“ <<There is no land above the sea. The great flood ended all>>”_ The man says and Stiles shakes his head.

 _“ <<No, no. There is lots of land above the sea. We’ve come here to find this city, to figure out if it really existed.>>”_ Stiles watches as the man takes off the mask completely, standing in front of them with a raised eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks directly at Stiles.

_“ <<And why would you want to find our city?>>”_

_“ <<Because we are researchers, and finding things and learning about new things is what we do.>>”_

_“ <<You speak the language very well.>>”_ The man smirks and Stiles smirks back.

_“ <<I’ve studied languages almost my entire life, I’d sure hope I can speak it well.>>_

_“ <<So you speak other languages?>>”_

_“Parlez-vous français?”_ Stiles asks, and the man grins.

_“Oui, monsieur!”_

“Wait, that’s French!” Allison speaks up and Stiles turns back around with a grin.

“Aren’t you guys going to say hello?” Stiles asks and Allison steps forward with a grin.

“Bonjour!” She greats and the other four Atlanteans take off their masks, some saying greetings in Spanish, some in French, one even says hello in German.

“How… How do they know all these languages?” Erica asks, sticking close to Stiles side and watching as the crew merges with the Atlanteans.

“I’m guessing that their language must be based on a root dialect, in fact maybe all languages came from theirs. I’ll have to look into it, of course, but it’s kind of neat. I’m sure I won’t be bored learning these things.” Stiles says with his mouth split wide in a  grin. His eyes follow the man with whom he was speaking to, who seems to be engaged in a Spanish conversation with Scott.

“Well, maybe English is in there somewhere too.” Commander Hale speaks from behind them, his hand catching on Stiles shoulder in an iron grip. “Hello!” Peter calls and everyone quiets down, turning to look at him as he steps around Stiles to speak.

“We are explorers from the surface world. We come in peace.” He continues and the man Stiles’ eyes keep drifting to smiles. He motions behind him, at the floating island and floating sea and his eyes sparkle.

“Welcome to the city of Atlantis.”

He steps forward and grabs Stiles arm gently around the wrist. “Come, you must meet with my mother now.”

 

 

 

Kate’s hands are clenched tightly in her lap, her nails digging into the skin of her palms, Peter to her left and the Stilinski boy to her right. He’s blabbering on about different languages and Kate grits her teeth.

“Someone’s having a good time.” She manages and Peter smirks beside her.

“Like a kid at Christmas morning.” Peter agrees and she gives the Stilinski kid a quick look to make sure he’s not paying attention before turning towards Peter.

“Commander, there were not supposed to be people down here. This changes everything.” She starts and Peter snorts. He looks to her and raises an eyebrow.

“This changes nothing, Lieutenant. Absolutely nothing.” Peter looks forward again, his hands loose on the wheel and Kate grits her teeth.

 

 

 

The room they’re led to is large, it’s floors made up of pond water filled with lily pads and carefully placed stones for them to walk upon towards the throne. Stiles notes that the throne isn’t even technically a throne, but a simple stone chair under a weathered piece of canvas that hangs low above the queen.

She’s old, is the first thing that Stiles notices. Very old, and her eyes are pure white, though she seems to be tracking their movement just fine. Her face is covered in the same pale blue tattoos that are on her son’s and daughter’s faces. She’s draped in light blue robes that stand stark against her tanned skin. Her hair is just as white as every other Atlantean Stiles has seen so far. He wonders, maybe, if it’s their magic that makes their hair that color, or if it’s something else.

 _“ <<Greetings, your Highness. I have brought the visitors.>>”_ Her son says, bowing at the base of the stairs leading up to where the queen is settled down, a staff held tightly in her aged hand.

Stiles gets down on one knee, copying his movements, while Kate and Peter stay standing.

 _“ <<You know the law, Dedrek. No outsiders may see the city and live.>>”_ The Queen states, her voice quiet yet still traveling like a strong wave over the empty room. Stiles looks up, his eyes wide.

 _“ <<Mother,>>”_ The Prince starts, standing up from his bow and looking up determinedly at his mother. _“ <<These people, they may be able to help us!>>”_

The Queen frowns. _“ <<We do not need their help.>>”_ The Queen waves a dismissive hand, staring down at her son as he protests

_“ <<But mother!>>”_

_“ <<That is enough. We will discuss this later.>>”_

Peter takes a step forward and Stiles looks on in abject horror as he opens his mouth and begins speaking.

“Your majesty, on behalf of my crew may I say it is an honor to be welcomed to your city.” Stiles very briefly wishes he could disappear from existence. He stands, trying to grab Peter’s arm and stop him from making a fool of them all, but Peter brushes his hand off.

“You presume much, to think you are welcome here.” The Queen spits and Peter continues, unheedingly.

“Madame, we have come a long way looking for—“

“I know what you seek and you will not find it here.” The Queen interrupts and Stiles can see a muscle in Peter’s jaw tick. “Your journey has been in vain.”

“We are but peaceful explorers, your highness, men of science.” Peter tries again and the Queen’s lips pull back in a soundless snarl.

“ _Men of science_ , and yet you bring weapons everywhere you go.”

“Our weapons allow us to remove obstacles we may encounter.” Peter continues and the Queen stands up.

“Some obstacles cannot be removed with a mere show of force. Return to your people. You must leave Atlantis at once.” She turns to leave and it looks like the Prince will follow after her, but Peter steps forward once again.

“Your Majesty, please, be reasonable.”

Stiles tries once more to get Peter to stop himself.

“Sir,” he hisses. And Peter turns to glare at him.

“Not now, son.”

“Commander, trust me on this. We better do as she says.”

Peter rolls his eyes and turns back towards the Queen. A bland smile on his face. “May I respectfully request but one night, your Majesty. One night for us to rest and resupply so we are ready to travel by morning.”

The Queen pauses in her exit and turns slowly to face them.

“Very well. One night, that is all you get. If you are still here come morning you will all be killed. This is your warning, _Commander_.”

With that she parts ways, her son giving one last backward glance at Stiles before turning and following after.

 

 

 

The Prince follows his mother into one of the side rooms off the main throne room, she settles into one of the many seats and the Prince listens as his two sisters join him.

“Your heart has softened, my son.” His mother starts and the Prince braces himself for an unfortunate conversation. “A thousand years ago you would have slain them on sight.”

His mother sighs and leans back in her seat and the Prince walks up to her, grabbing a cloth and wetting it in the bowl resting atop a table beside the chair his mother is sitting in. He dabs at her forehead and wipes away perspiration and dirt. He stands up and motions for his youngest sister Cora to start the lights in the room, and she does, touching her crystal to the lanterns and setting them aglow.

He kneels on the floor beside his mother, holding her hand and looking up at his older sister as she puts her stone to their mother’s heart and holds her hands over her shoulder, trying to take as much pain as she can.

“Mother, a thousand years ago the streets were lit and our people did not have to scavenge at the edge of the city for the barest hints of food. Our walls are crumbling and none of them care!”

“The people are content.”

He lets his head hang for a moment before he sighs and looks back up at his mother.

“The people don’t know any better, Mother. But I do. We used to be a great people, once, and now we live in ruins. The kings and queens of our past would weep if they could see how far we have fallen in such a short time.”

“Dedrek.” His mother’s voice is tired, but full of warning, and yet he still plows on, knowing in his heart this is the right thing to do to bring his people back to their true glory.

“If these people, these outsiders can unlock the secrets of our past, perhaps we can save our future.” He tries, his voice desperate and his mother shakes her head.

“What they have to teach us we have already learned, time and time again. The men above the ocean are never to be trusted.”

“Our way of life is dying, mother! Just as you are on this sickbed! Day after day you waste away, for what?”

“Our way of life is preserved, Dedrek, and in my death it will be preserved further. I will hear no more arguments from you. When you take the throne, you will understand.”

 

 

 

“So, how’d it go?” Scott asks as soon as they exit the front doors of the great palace and Stiles’ hands automatically go to nervously push up his glasses.

“So, the Queen’s son seems to like us just fine, I couldn’t get a read on her daughters, but the Queen? She basically hates our guts.”

Scott winces.

“Bummer, dude.” Stiles nods enthusiastically.

“Total bummer, I also think that the Queen is hiding something, but I’m not entirely sure what it could be, it’s just… a gut feeling you know?”

Scott shrugs and Commander Hale finally stops walking and turns around to look at the last remnants of his crew. Stiles flips open the Shepherd’s Journal once more, looking for more clues.

“Well, if she’s hiding something then I want to know what it is. Someone needs to talk to her son.”

Kate grins and nods.

“Yeah, someone with good people skills.”

“Someone who won’t scare him away?” Isaac asks and Erica grins, hooking an arm over his shoulder and tussling his hair

“Someone who… _Speaks the language.”_ She says and everyone turns to look at Stiles, who once more has his nose buried in the journal and isn’t paying them a single lick of attention.

“Good man, Mr. Stilinski. Thank you for volunteering.” Commander Hale says loudly, almost directly beside Stiles and Stiles jumps. Looking up with wide eyes.

“What?”

Lydia wolf whistles at him and sends him a saucy wink. “Go get ‘im, tiger.”

Stiles blinks, even more confused, as they all start walking away. Scott takes pity on him and explains Commander Hale’s orders.

Stiles feels distinctly like everyone is ganging up on him.

 

 

 

Stiles’ heart is kind of fluttering about in his chest like some crazed butterfly on literally all the drugs. Despite the easy linguistics game they’d played, and despite the fact that this guy seems to be capable of magic, and he used said magic to heal Stiles, Stiles still feels distinctly at a loss as to how to deal with the apparent Prince of Atlantis.

Oh if only Stiles’ mom could see him now. She’d probably laugh at him, tease him a little bit like Scott had done and then tell him to just go for it. Gosh, he misses her.

He’s currently leaning against one of the many pillars in front of the palace, halfway up the steps, his hands tight on the strap of his shoulder bag so he doesn’t play around with his glasses too much. He takes a deep breath.

“Come on, Stiles. You can’t take no for an answer! Just ‘Look, I have some questions for you and I’m not leaving this city until they’re answered!’  Yeah, that’s it. That’s good, that’s good. Ugh, no it’s not, what the hell am I thinking, why did they make me do this.” Stiles groans, turning his back to the palace door and running his fingers through his hair nervously.

He doesn’t even notice the Prince sneaking up on him until it’s too late.

A hand slaps over his mouth and a large arm winds itself around his waist, a solid chest pressing into his back and a warm whisper appears on his neck.

“I have some questions for you.” The Prince whispers and Stiles feels his entire body shiver “And you are not leaving this city until they are answered.” Stiles can hear a grin in the Prince’s voice and he easily breaks free, turning around to face the Prince and taking note of just how close they’re actually standing like this.

“Yeah, well I… Okay.” The Prince’s grin widens and he slaps a hand over Stiles mouth again, his other hand going up to his own lips and he his index finger is put up in a ‘Shh’ sign.

“Shh, come with me.” The Prince laughs and Stiles rolls his eyes but follows along as the Prince grabs him by the wrist and tugs him along.

Stiles has no idea where they’ve even gone to. What he does know is that apparently the Prince of Atlantis is basically a freaking monkey. He’s made Stiles climb around a million different ruins and cliffs, past waterfalls and fallen statues that have been overgrown with foliage.

Finally they stop in a small clearing like space. There are large chunks of carved stone, broken into massive pieces like it used to be ground that was split by earthquakes.

The Prince is still holding his wrist when they stop but Stiles doesn’t really care. The heat of his hand being there is nice, Stiles kind of doesn’t ever want him to let go, to be honest. The Prince grins at him, his head tilting to one side and his hair shining in the light leaking through the trees above them.

“I have so many questions about your world.” He begins, tilting his head from one side to the other before laughing and smiling down at Stiles. Stiles kind of stares for a moment because this guy has got the actual cutest front teeth Stiles has ever seen, and he didn’t even know someone could think teeth are cute but here he is, thinking this guy’s teeth are cute. His two front teeth are just slightly longer than the others, and when he’s smiling wide like this they look like adorable little bunny teeth.

“You are a scholar, are you not?” The Prince starts talking again, distracting Stiles from his visions of bunny teeth and kissing said bunny teeth. “I mean, simply judging from your diminished physique and large forehead… I’d say you are suited for nothing else.”

Stiles makes a noise of outrage, taking a step back but not pulling his wrist from The Prince’s loose grip.

“Excuse you, your highness. Are you saying I’m a skinny twig with a big head?”

The Prince laughs, his eyes shining, and now that he’s not lying in a dark cave somewhere Stiles can see that not only are those eyes light green and hazel but they’re also blue and brown and Stiles swears he sees flecks of gold in them. They’re like… kaleidoscope eyes. How is he even real?

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Are you denying it?” He reaches forward, letting go of Stiles wrist – Stiles feels the loss starkly – and grabbing Stiles’ glasses from his face, turning them around and putting them on himself, but upside down. He blinks a few times behind the glass and Stiles wants to laugh at how large they make the Prince’s eyes look.

“What is your country of origin? When did the flood waters recede? How did you—“

“Hey now, hold your horses. I’ve got a few questions of my own, there, dude.” Stiles plucks his glasses from the Prince’s face and puts them back on his own. “How about this, alright? You ask a question, and then I’ll ask a question, and we’ll keep going like that in turns until we run out of questions.

The Prince shakes his head, grinning.

“I’d have to keep you here forever if we play until we never have any more questions. I’ve got far too many.”

Stiles’ cheeks heat up and he looks down at his shoes, licking his lips nervously before looking back up at the Prince.

“What is your first question?” The Atlantean asks, his voice soft and Stiles looks up, thinking through his own list of questions. He doesn’t even mean to ask the one he does, but the words just kind of tumble out of his mouth.

“How did you get here? Like. Not you, personally. But your culture, your people. How did you all end up underground here?”

The Prince turns around, touching different fern leaves and wandering around the clearing, looking back to make sure Stiles follows him, which he does of course he does.

“It is said that the gods became jealous of Atlantis, and so they sent a great cataclysm and banished us here. All I can remember is the sky going dark. Darker than I’d ever seen it before. Everyone was running in the streets, shouting, there were beams of red light shining down on us, but not staying in one spot. I was out with my father when a bright light, brighter than even the sun, began to glow above our city. My mother said it called my father to it, and I never saw him again.” He sits down on one particular outcropping of stone and Stiles sits down beside him, lightly bumping their shoulders together.

“I’m sorry, bringing up painful memories. If it’s any consolation I know how you feel. I lost my father when I was very young, too young to really remember, but I lost my mother when I needed her most and I carry her loss with me every day.” They sit there in silence for a moment, and the Atlantean reaches over to grab his hand, pulling it into his lap and just touching it. He’s running his calloused thumb over Stiles soft palm when the cogs in Stiles brain suddenly kick-start into life and he turns to give the Prince a curious glance.

“You said you remember when Atlantis was lost,” He nods, his face calm as he continues his exploration of Stiles fingers and Stiles blinks. “That was… That was centuries ago, though.” Stiles can feel his brow furrowing and the Prince finally stops touching his hand, looking up at him and laughing at his confused face.

“Yes. I know.”

“That would make you more than 800 years old.” The royal bunny teeth make another appearance. Stiles heart can’t handle this.

“I’m well aware of my age, explorer.”

“Oh, well. I mean, you’re uh, lookin’ pretty good for someone your uh…anyways” Stiles shakes his head, ignoring how it looks like the Prince is about to laugh at him. “Do you have another question for me?” He asks and the Atlantean pretends to think on it for a second before leaning forward, right into Stiles’ space.

“Yes. How is it that you found your way to Atlantis?” One of the Prince’s eyebrows rises and Stiles kind of wants to touch it, because while the hair on his head and his arms is white, his eyelashes and his eyebrows are black (as well as a certain trail down his stomach, but Stiles is _so not_ _going there_ right now). His eyebrows look like thick black caterpillars on his face, and Stiles didn’t really know he was an eyebrow guy until this very moment.

Stiles takes one more second to simply look at him before reluctantly turning away, digging in his bag and pulling out the journal.

“Honestly? I don’t think I could’ve done it without this journal. Even then, it wasn’t easy.” The Prince reaches forward and gently takes the book from his hands. Stiles doesn’t really feel anxious about getting it back from him so he lets the Prince explore it.

“Alright, my turn. There’s a legend that says your people possessed some kind of power source, and that this power source enabled them to—“

“You mean you can understand this?” The Prince interrupts. Holding up the book and Stiles frowns at him for a second before nodding.

“Yeah, I’m a linguist. That’s my job. It’s my life to understand different languages, didn’t we already have this conversation up on that cliff? Do I need to start talking in French? Anyways, getting back to my question—“

“This.” The Atlantean interrupts, shoving the book back at Stiles, open to a random page. His finger points to the words on the paper. “Right here. You can read this?”

Stiles laughs. “Yes, I can read Atlantean, just like you.”

There’s silence and then it dawns on Stiles.

“Oh my god, you can’t, can you?”

The Prince shakes his head, eyes wide.

“No one in the city can. Such knowledge… It’s been lost to us since the time of the Mehbelmok.” He pulls the book back into his lap, looking longingly at the pages.

“The great flood…”, Stiles translates.

“Show me.” The Prince says suddenly and Stiles blinks at him for a moment.

“What?”

“Show me.” The Prince points to the book and Stiles leans over, trying to ignore how warm the Atlantean’s shoulder is against his chest while he reads from whatever page is open in the Prince’s lap.

“ _< <Follow the narrow passage for another league. There you will find the fifth marker>>.”_ Stiles looks up at him only to see the Prince looking right back at him, their noses an inch apart. “How was my accent?” He asks, jokingly, and the Prince gives him a blank look before grinning brightly. He teasingly shoves Stiles as he stands up shrugs.

“Boorish, provincial. Also you’re speaking through your nose.”  Stiles rolls his eyes and jokingly shoves back at the Prince.

“I’ll get right on that, your highness.”

The Atlantean laughs and then suddenly he grabs Stiles wrist again in what is becoming a pattern Stiles doesn’t actually mind. He pulls Stiles in close for a second, bouncing on his feet in excitement.

“Here, now let _me_ show _you_ something.” He says, yanking Stiles along and Stiles allows himself to be pulled for the third time that day.

They don’t go very far before the Prince is uncovering what appears to be a vehicle designed kind of like the Leviathan was. He says as much to the Prince and he nods.

“Yes, it is a method of transportation, but no matter what I try I cannot get it to respond. There is writing on it, though, so maybe you can—“

“Way ahead of you.” Stiles interrupts this time and the Prince gives him a smirk. “Alrighty let’s see what this baby has to say. ‘Place crystal into slot’” Stiles begins and the Atlantean rolls his eyes.

“Yes, I’ve done that.”

“’Gently place your hand on the inscription pad’?”

“Yes!” The Prince says impatiently and Stiles continues reading, amused at his exasperation.

“Did you turn the crystal one-quarter turn back?”

“Explorer, that is the only way to turn it!” Stiles grins up at him.

“But did you turn it while you kept your hand on the pad?”

The Prince stops and blinks for a second.

“Oh. No.”

Stiles laughs and stands up, ushering him in closer.

“Come on then, let’s see if you can get this thing started!”

The Prince pulls the crystal from around his neck and does as instructed, and soon the entire thing is floating in front of them, lines of light blue power following invisible designs.

“ _< <Fuck me.>>_” The Prince exclaims and honestly Stiles could’ve gone his whole life not knowing what those words sounded like coming from this man’s mouth, because now that he knows what they sound like he kind of wants the Prince to say them again and again under different circumstances. For now, he settles on simply saying

“Yeah, you’ve got that right.”

Naturally, two seconds later, Stiles manages to make the thing crash into a steaming heap and Stiles gives the Prince a look as innocent as he can manage. The Prince snorts, but grabs his wrist and beings pulling him out of the clearing and back into the forest.

 

 

 

Has Stiles ever mentioned he’s like, deathly afraid of heights? Well, he is. And right now the Atlantean Prince is trying to get him to climb to the top of their highest tower, which just so happens to be a crumbly, overgrown thing, and every time Stiles looks down at the ground his stomach gives an unhappy lurch. He keeps following the Prince though, because this is Atlantis, and you only live once, Stilinski make the most of it.

“You know,” Stiles yells up at the Prince, “We’ve never even really been properly introduced?”

The Prince looks down at him, his head tilted to one side.

“My name’s Stiles. Or well, technically it’s Przemysław, but no one can really pronounce that but my babcia. So I go by Stiles.”

The Prince smiles down at him. “Hello Przemysław Stiles.” He repeats back with perfect pronunciation and Stiles just stares up at him with wide eyes for a second, which makes him laugh.

“My name is Dedrekash.” The Prince says just as they finally reach the top, he holds out a hand to help Stiles up and Stiles gladly takes it before sitting down for a moment.

“Well I sadly think I’m gonna need a bit more practice to pronounce that one properly, but do you have a nickname?”

The Prince smiles.

“Dedrek.”

“Derek?”

The Prince shakes his head. “Close, very close, but no. it’s almost like a rolling sound in the middle. But Derek will do.”

Derek smiles at him before sitting down beside him, their legs hanging over the edge of the tower. The view from up this high is incredible, and something in Stiles gut aches to think about the fact that his mother missed out on seeing this, on discovering this.

“Thank you, for bringing me here.”

Derek turns to look at him, looking away from where the entirety of Atlantis sits before them. He frowns and reaches for Stiles face just as Stiles realizes there are some tears falling down his cheeks.

“Oh no. What is wrong?” The prince looks so worried that Stiles laughs and grabs the hand that had come up to wipe away a tear, holding Derek’s hand this time instead of Derek holding his.

“I told you, about my mom and how I lost her. She used to love exploring. She’d talk to me about finding this place night after night, it was like a bedtime story. She often said we’d find it together, and she made up stories of what it’d be like when we did. I just… I can’t help thinking she should be here to see this.”

Derek gives him a small smile, moving his hand from between Stiles’ own and putting it over the center of Stiles chest.

“She is here to see it. Right here.”

 

 

 

“So,” Derek says as they wander the streets later that evening. “Tell me more about your companions. Your physician is the one called Scott?” Stiles laughs, following the prince as he weaves in and out of the slow foot traffic of the streets, giving strangers waves and handshakes as they all come over to greet their prince.

“No, well. I suppose. Scott is a physician of sorts, but our main physician is Deaton.”

“Ah, yes. And then Jackson was…?”

“Our cook.”

“Hmm. And the tall one, with the dark skin, he is Void.”

“No, Boyd.”

“But you said his name started with a V?”

“His first name, he prefers to be called by his last name.” Derek sighs.

“Fine. Boyd. What does he do.”

“He likes to blow things up, make them explode.”

“Aah, he is the one who knocked the pillar down to create a bridge.” Stiles nods as two little kids come running up to grab at Derek’s hands.

 _“ <<Dedrek, Dedrek! Look at how fast I can run now!>>” _The young girl shouts.

 _“ <<Dedrek, Dedrek, I can run faster than Kida can_!>>” The brother exclaims and then they’re both taking off down the street, Derek calling cheers as they come racing back, both out of breath. A voice calls them both back for supper and they disappear as fast as they appeared. Stiles quietly follows the prince for a bit, watching how the people interact with him.

They’re at an empty bit of street when Stiles finally decided to speak again.

“Your people. They love you.”

Derek looks down, the tips of his ears turning a bright red against his hair.

“I love them to. I wish I was able to protect them from everything.” He says quietly and Stiles reaches out, grabbing Derek’s hand and twining their fingers tightly together.

“I’m sure they know how you feel.”

 

 

 

 _“ <<Okay>>”_ Derek starts beside him while they’re gathered around in an open building around a fire, eating different Atlantean dishes. _“ <<Let me start this from the beginning, so I can see if I understand.>>”_

Stiles grins around a mouthful of bread, motioning for Derek to continue.

_“ <<Deaton is your doctor, and Scott is also a doctor of sorts but that was not the reason he came with you. He came with you because he is your brother, yet Allison is not your sister, yet, because she has not married Scott, yet you feel for her like a sister. Lydia is the one with the red hair, Jackson is the cook and he seems prickly but he actually is not. Boyd does not like his first name, but he does like to make things go boom, Erica is the shorter of the blonde one’s and she likes to tinker with things, whereas the taller of the blonde ones is Kate and she is in charge, but not a commander, because your commander is this Peter. You aren’t quite sure of Isaac’s purpose, but you know everyone views him as you view Scott. Yes?>>”_

Stiles pretends to give Derek a slow clap and Derek’s ears turn red again.

 _“ <<I think you pick up on things faster than you’ve been letting on, your Majesty_.>>” Stiles teases and Derek rolls his eyes. When Stiles looks across the room at his crewmates he almost immediately catches Scott and Allison’s eyes. Allison is giving him a knowing look and Scott is giving him a completely unsubtle double thumbs up. Stiles returns them, because that’s just how they do things with the McCall-Stilinski clan; you never leave a brother hangin’.

He can see Erica and Boyd teasing Isaac with what appears to be a dish made entirely of eight eyed slugs of some sort, and Deaton is holding a conversation with an Atlantean who keeps gesturing to all the dishes, before making a million smaller hand gestures. Deaton looks like he’s about to whip out a notebook and take notes, so Stiles will assume that the conversation is about the health benefits of each of the different meals. Lydia and Jackson are in a heated discussion in one of the corners of the room, although Lydia still seems bored with everything. And Stiles has no idea where Commander Hale or Kate are.

Those thoughts all quickly slip his mind, when once again Derek grabs him by the wrist and gives him a small grin.

_“ <<Follow me.>>”_

 

 

 

If Atlantis during the day is a sight to behold then Atlantis at night is basically a masterpiece. The literal fire-fireflies were floating around, in the darker night light and Stiles was carefully helping Derek catch them to put them in a lantern. Stiles wonders for a moment, what their light source is, is there a tunnel that the sun leads down during the day? Do they basically have a magic sun that helps sustain the entire city? He keeps the questions to himself, but resolves to write them down later. Maybe he can ask Derek before he has to leave. Derek’s features seem somehow sharper and softer in the light of the little bugs, and he’s been surprisingly quiet after dragging Stiles away from dinner.

“You know, the most we hoped to find here were some crumbling buildings. Maybe some broken pottery pieces.” Stiles says quietly, chasing after a firefly and catching it in his hands for a moment before gently passing it over to Derek to put into the lantern. “Instead, what we found were you guys. A living, thriving society… And these guys, which are actually incredibly beautiful when not chasing after you in a fiery column of death.” Stiles jokes and he watches as Derek stares at his lantern.

“We are not thriving.” He speaks quietly, his mouth turned down at the corners. “True, my people live, but our culture, our history, it’s dying and slowly washing away. We are like a stone the ocean beats against. With every year that passes a little more of us gets worn away.” His voice is subdued, and Stiles stands a little ways away, watching as Derek almost hunches in on himself, refusing to look away from the lantern.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Stiles says and Derek finally looks over at him.

“I have brought you here, to this place, to ask you for your help. There is a mural here, with writing all around the pictures. Old writing, writing no one in the city knows how to read, except for you, now.

“Well, I mean. Reading a mural? Yeah I can do that, but what good would that do? Those are just words.” Derek shakes his head, a small smile finally gracing his face as he turns to Stiles.

“They’re not just words, they’re my history. I know there is something I am missing about how to help my people, how to make sure that they do thrive again like they did before. But I lack the proper tools to understand the message.”

“And you think that I could find what you’re looking for?”

Derek shrugs.

“You’re my only hope. So, will you help?”

There’s something about the way he said it, with such bare honestly, that Stiles is almost under a spell. No one’s ever really needed him before. No one’s asked him to use his extensive knowledge of language to help with something important. Derek looks right into his eyes and Stiles is lost under the spell.

“Of course I’ll help, Derek. You don’t even need to ask.”

Derek finally smiles at him. “Great.” Derek immediately begins unraveling the long skirt of cloth wrapped around his waist and Stiles’ eyes widen.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, dude, what are you doing?”

Derek pulls the cloth completely away from himself with a flourish, and there’s a set of almost shorts underneath them – bummer, a tiny voice in the back of Stiles mind thinks, wondering what exactly Derek looks like under those shorts. He raises an eyebrow for a moment before smirking at Stiles, almost like he knows what Stiles is thinking.

“You do swim, do you not?”

Ah.

“I, uh. Yeah I totally swim! I swim brilliantly, in fact.”

“Uh huh.” Derek sounds far too sarcastic for Stiles liking and Stiles glares at the Atlantean as he slowly wades till he’s waist deep in the water.

“I will have you know that I am one of the best swimmers in Beacon Hills. Just ask Scott, I am the belly flop champion at Camp Runamuck.” Stiles reluctantly peels off his tank top and his cargo pants, standing in only boxers for a moment before wading into the surprisingly warm water after Derek.

Derek is giving him a flirty look from a little farther in and when he grins it’s all teeth. “It’s a pretty fair distance. Are you sure you’re a good swimmer?” Stiles rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out, stepping deeper into the water before lightly splashing Derek, making him laugh.

“Come on then, we’re wasting time. Where’s this mural at?”

Derek grins at Stiles’ tone, splashing him back before diving down and disappearing under the water. Stiles takes a deep breath and does his best to follow along.

He watches with wide eyes as they swim deeper and deeper, passing massive underwater statues and ruins. Just as Stiles’ lungs begin to burn Derek starts to swim upwards. They pop up for air, but Stiles almost shoots out of the water and ends up hitting his head on whatever piece of metal is sitting above them, creating a little air pocket.

“Oh! Are you alright?” Derek grabs Stiles’ face between his hands, pushing himself up a little more and tilting Stiles head down so he can look and make sure there’s no bleeding.

“I, yeah. Totally. Just a little bump. I’m easily one of the most clumsy people anyone will ever meet. I’ve had worse than this, trust me. Besides, I haven’t drowned yet, so..”

“Good.” Derek grins, still holding his face between his large hands. “Follow me.”

“See, now you keep saying that but like—“ Before Stiles can even finish his sentence Derek is disappearing below the water again and Stiles sighs, following him down. The first mural is rather close by, and while it’s underwater the crystal around Derek’s neck is acting like a rather highly powered lantern of its own – illuminating the words and the works of art. Derek sticks close by while Stiles tries to read faster than he’s ever read before.

As soon as he’s done the few paragraphs on this mural he motions to Derek for them both to go up for air and Derek nods.

“Derek, this is absolutely incredible! There’s the entire history of Atlantis down there, not just bits and pieces. It’s the entire thing, and it’s just like Plato described it… Well, almost exactly how he described it. Naturally he messed up a few of the details, but that’s all minor stuff compared to the stuff he got right and—“

“The light, Stiles. Did you see anything about the light?”

“What?”

Derek huffs.

“The night I lost my father, the star that was shining in the middle of the city. What does the writing say about that?”

“Oh.” Stiles thinks over the words he’s just read. “This isn’t the only part of the mural, right?” Derek shakes his head and Stiles nods. “I haven’t read anything about the light, but we’ve still got time to look. Take me to the next piece.”

They swim around for what feels like hours, Stiles reading about different pieces of history and then telling Derek about them in their little air pocket before they set off again, looking for a story about the light Derek saw. They finally swim up to what seems to be one of the last pieces of the mural, in this current location.

This piece of the mural is a little farther away, so they can’t stay looking at it for nearly as long as the other pieces. This doesn’t matter though, because as soon as Derek’s crystal illuminates it, Stiles can see that most of this mural is made up of pictures with only a little bit of writing.

They swim past massive depictions of what seems to be two humanoid machines each surrounded in a pale blue aura, with streams of white light linking their hearts to a half circle of what seems to be seven people, also connected by the heart and a pale white light to a large star. He grabs Derek’s hand and pulls him over to one side of the mural, reading for as long as his lungs can hold out for. When they swim back up to their  air bubble Stiles lets go of Derek’s hand to grab him by the shoulders.

“The heart of Atlantis!” He spits out, excitedly, his heart racing.

Derek’s brow furrows.

“What?”

“The heart of Atlantis, that’s what the shepherd was talking about!”

“Your… book?” Stiles nods.

“Yes! The book! And the light you saw, it wasn’t a star, it was a crystal of some kind, like the one’s you’ve all got around your neck! Do you understand? The power source I was looking for, the bright light you remember they’re the same thing!”

“That… That cannot be.” Derek mutters and Stiles grabs the crystal, holding it up between them and illuminating their faces.

“There’s a large crystal is that’s keeping all these things, the crystals, you, all of Atlantis alive!”

“Well then, where is it now?” Derek asks and Stiles lets Derek’s crystal go, so it drops back down around Derek’s neck.

“I… I don’t know! You’d think something this important would have been in the journal, but… I mean, I could have sworn there was a missing page.”

He and Derek share a look.

“Maybe… Maybe my mother might know something? If we take all of his information to her, she cannot ignore it any longer.”

“Maybe, but your mom isn’t exactly our biggest fans, I don’t want to piss her off any more than she probably already is, Derek.”

Derek sighs, bringing a wet hand up to run through his hair while they bob there.

“I wish she would just see how much you’ve found out, how much you’ve helped. I know you can help us find this crystal, and I know you can help me fix Atlantis, but mother is very stubborn and she said she didn’t think your people could help, she thinks they will betray us like many have before.”

Stiles bites his lip, brows furrowing.

“Maybe then, we should try to figure this out on our own? Show her that my people being here isn’t going to be detrimental to Atlantis?”

“But how?” Derek asks, his voice breaking. “If there is nothing more in your book, and not enough time to continue searching down here, how do we do this on our own?”

“Do you think… do you think your sisters might now something?” Stiles says tentatively and almost immediately Derek shakes his head.

“No. I’m meant to be the next ruler, the Gods decided it long ago, I’m the one who knows the most about how Atlantis is run, and I don’t know a single thing about the light.”

“What are your sisters doing, by the way, while we’ve been out here?”

Derek’s silent for a moment before he looks up at Stiles with sad eyes.

“My mother, she is dying like the city is, they’ve been taking care of her while I go out looking further and further every day for a wave to save Atlantis.”

“Is that how you knew we were coming? You saw us while you were out searching for answers?”

Derek nods and Stiles sighs, trying to think for a moment. He just wishes they had more time, and that the journal wasn’t missing an entire page of information.

“I mean, we could try and go to your mother, if you think that what we’ve learned right now will convince her.”

Now it’s Derek who seems to be thinking for a moment, but it doesn’t take long for Derek to look at Stiles with determination set deep in his face.

“Let’s go. I will show her. She cannot ignore this for any longer.”

“Alrighty then, let’s go.” Stiles takes a deep breath, preparing to dive back down but Derek’s hand on his bicep stops him, and the breath he’d taken is slowly released by the soft look on Derek’s face.

“Before… Before we go. I have something I wish to show you.” Stiles is confused.

“Do I have to swim farther out this time? Cause I gotta tell you my lungs are not happy and my legs are screaming certain death at me already.”

Derek chuckles for a moment before his hands are framing Stiles face and neck, exactly like he’d done to check that Stiles’ head wasn’t bleeding. Stiles neck and jaw feel warm where Derek is cradling it, and Derek’s thumbs are both slightly rubbing along his cheeks.

“You do not have to swim to see what I wish to show you.” Derek says quietly just before he swims in closer and presses their lips together. Stiles stops breathing.

Derek’s lips are soft against his, warm and kind of wet, and at first they just rest there while Stiles recovers from the shock of it, but then Derek starts to pull away and one of Stiles hands comes up to grab at the back of Derek’s neck and drag him back in.

He can briefly feel Derek grin against his mouth before Derek tilts his head to one side, his nose brushing against Stiles and if Stiles had been standing on solid ground right now he’s sure his legs would have given out. As it is, it just becomes a bit harder to swim.

Their lips are moving against each other and Derek’s hands are gentle yet insistent in their hold of Stiles face, helping to guide him in into a position before Derek’s tongue licks out along his bottom lip. Stiles gasps quietly, but the sound seems almost deafening in their little air bubble. Stiles can feel his heart beating in his chest as his fingers tighten just a little in the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck.

They don’t push the kiss farther than that though, and soon enough they break apart, Derek resting their foreheads together while they catch their breath. Stiles can feel the heat of Derek’s breath across his mouth and he can’t help but lean forward just enough to close that space and give Derek a chaste kiss.

When he finally manages to open his eyes it’s to see Derek grinning softly at him. He grins back.

 

 

 

Stiles comes up for air gasping back in the pond they started from, and just as he’s reaching for his pants, his hands come into contact with a solid, human leg.

He looks up, wiping water from his eyes to see Commander Hale crouching at the end of the steps, his gun in his hands, and the entire crew standing behind him loaded up to the teeth with different weapons.

Stiles pushes his glasses up his nose and squints at them.

“Have a nice swim, Mr. Stilinski?” Hale asks and Kate snickers.

“What… What’s going on? Where did you guys get all these weapons from?” Hale, naturally, doesn’t answer him and when he looks back to try and catch Boyd, Erica, or Isaac’s eyes they refuse to return the favor. He looks around, immediately noticing that Scott and Allison aren’t there.

“Where is my best friend?” He asks, his voice hard and Kate steps forward, a large rifle in her hands.

“McCall and my niece are back at the volcano, waiting for us to return with you so we can leave.” She says, coming to a stop behind.

Stiles’ closes his eyes and smiles an empty smile, looking at the crew standing above him on the steps. He laughs, and it’s an empty sound.

“Of course. God, I’m such an idiot.” He looks away from the crew and stares Hale directly in the eyes. “It’s just another treasure hunt for you. You’re after the crystal.”

Peter smirks, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper.

“I’m guessing you mean this.”

“The heart of Atlantis.” Stiles answers back and Peter’s grin only grows.

“Yeah, about that. I would’ve told you sooner but it was strictly need-to-know information and, well, now you know. I had to be sure you were one of us. Welcome to the club, kid.” Peter holds out his hand and Stiles pulls himself out of the water and stands tall in front of Hale and rejecting the offer of his hand. His face twists into an expression of disgust.

“I’m no mercenary, Hale.”

Just as he says this, Derek pops up a few meters away and is immediately rough handled onto the shore, where he easily fights and disarms three men in quick seconds. He pulls out a knife and is just about to stab it into one of his attackers when a shot goes off and the knife if flung from his grip. He turns with a snarl, his eyes glowing blue to see Commander Hale with a knife at Stiles’ throat.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you Prince.” Peter comments and Derek watches as Peter slowly drags the knife across Stiles’ throat, not deep enough to do any damage, but still deep enough to split open the skin. Derek freezes, and the knife stops moving. Stiles eyes are alight with fiery determination as he looks over at Derek.

Derek lets the next wave of guards come at him and restrain him and Peter lets go of Stiles, pushing him down a few steps until the boy is sitting on his knees in front of him. The few crew Stiles had taught him about just hours before seem suddenly restless and unsure.

“Now, where were we Stiles. Ah yes, mercenaries. Now, I prefer the term ‘adventure capitalist’. And besides, you’re the one who got us here. You led us literally right to the treasure chest.” Peter simpers and Stiles glares up at the man, a hand to his throat feeling if there was any deep damage. He knows that the shallow wound there now is really just a warning to both him and Derek.

His hand comes away bright red and slick with blood, and he can feel the heat of it dripping down his neck and chest like some macabre body paint. It’s making Isaac look distinctly uneasy.

“You don’t know what you’re tampering with, Hale.”

“Please. What’s to know? It’s big, it’s shiny, and it’s going to make us all filthy fucking rich.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and slowly begins to stand, his knees aching from their brief fall down a few stone steps. His neck stings. He ignores it.

“You think it’s some sort of diamond. Before tonight I thought it was some kind of battery, and guess what we’re both wrong. It’s their life force. That crystal is quite literally the only thing keeping this entire city alive down here. You take that away and hundreds of people die.”

Peter’s face is blank for a moment before he turns to look back at the blonde standing behind his shoulder. “Mm, yes well that changes things. Kate, what do you think?” He asks and Kate smirks down at Stiles.

“Knowing that, I’d say it’ll fetch double the original price.”

“Really?” Peter asks. “I was thinking it’d go for triple.”

“Hale, don’t do this.”

Peter snorts, and looks down his nose at Stiles. The gun held loosely in his right hand and a bloody knife held in the other.

“Academics; none of you ever want to get your hands dirty. Think about it. If you gave back every single stolen item from a museum, no matter how big or small, you’d be left with just an empty building.”

“That’s not true!”

Peter smirks. “We’re just providing a necessary service, Stilinski. It’ll be a major find for the archeological community. Your name could be big news in all the right circles.”

“Yeah well I’m not interested.”

Peter shrugs, looking briefly put-out but quickly his expression transforms into one of fake sadness. “I’ll admit.” He says, waving his gun around while he talks. “I’m disappointed in you, Stilinski. You’re just like your mother, a fucking bleeding heart. Do yourself a favor, Stiles. Stitch it closed. Do the smart thing here.”

Stiles glares at him, not moving or saying anything and Peter sighs.

“I really hate it when people don’t listen. This was a nice negotiation, Stiles, too bad we couldn’t come to a deal.” Without another word Peter grabs him by the arm and hauls him up, turning him around to face Derek before he stabs his knife deep into Stiles’ gut.

“No!” Derek lunges out of the guards hold and runs toward Stiles, coming to a stop just inches away when Peter levels his gun directly at Derek’s face. Derek’s eyes are wide and Stiles is busy trying not to think about the extreme pain and the fact that there’s a knife stabbed into him, _oh god_. Stiles can feel a panic attack coming on. His vision is going black around the edges and he thinks he can hear Erica shouting ‘What the hell, Hale!’. He doesn’t look away from Derek’s face and Derek looks like he’s about to cry.

“Let’s try this again.” Peter says and Derek snarls.

“Let him go.” Stiles can feel Peter shaking his head behind him. Stiles legs feel weak. In the back of his mind he’s kind of glad that Scott and Allison aren’t here, but then there’s another part that wonders if the only reason they’re not is because Peter’s done something similar to them. He feels like he might vomit, so he tries to stop thinking about his best friend bleeding out in the dark and instead moves his hands to touch the knife in his stomach.

He thinks for a second about pulling it out, and his hand is on the handle, maybe if he can pull it out he could stab Peter with it? But he’s never stabbed anyone before, he’s never even really hurt anyone except for the time he accidentally punched Scott in the face when they were like, eleven.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you Stiles.” Peter says suddenly and Stiles startles, Peter’s hand comes around and grabs the handle of the knife Stiles had just been holding. “See, if you take this out, you’ll probably die before we could get you proper help. You’ll bleed out as soon as this is removed from your wound.” Peter says, and Stiles swallows thickly, trying to calm his breathing. His head is fuzzy.

“I’m bleeding right now.” He manages to say and Peter laughs behind him.

“That’s true, but you’ll bleed more if this gets pulled out. So here’s what’s going to happen. The Prince is going to take us to the Queen, the Queen will tell us where this crystal is, and then maybe we can get you to Deaton to have him patch you up. If everyone behaves.”

Peter’s voice is terrifyingly calm and everything is silent for a moment before Derek shakes his head.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. I will fix Stiles now, and then I will take you to my mother.” He says and Kate laughs, coming up and standing beside Derek.

“Fix the kid with what, Prince?” She sneers and Derek snarls at her, his eyes glowing blue again.

“He is dying. I will fix him, then we go.” Derek repeats and Stiles tries to shake his head. He doesn’t want Derek revealing any more about what the crystals can do to these people. Derek ignores him, staring defiantly right at Peter. “He is the only one who can read your book, and the paper you hold. If he dies you will never know what it says.” Derek tries again and Kate snorts.

“You’re saying no one in this city can read their own language?”

Derek grits his teeth and shakes his head. “We have not been able to read it for centuries.” He spits out Stiles feels light headed, thinking back to when Derek first found out he could actually read Atlantean. He wishes he was back in that clearing right now.

“Commander,” Boyd starts from beside them and all of them turn to look at him. He looks unsettled. “If he’s the only one who can read it, is it really wise to do this?”

Stiles can feel Peter shrug against his back, the movement jostling his wound and he tries not to scream but a wounded sound comes out and Derek tries to take a step forward only to stop again when Peter clicks the safety off and a bullet clicks into the chamber.

“I think it is, wise. Boyd. You will not question me, I am the authority here.”

“Please, sir. He’s just a kid.” Stiles can’t stand up anymore and his knees give out, releasing him from Peter’s hold as he slumps to the ground and Derek makes a concerned noise, dropping to his knees in front of Stiles and reaching for him.

It’s Kate that stops him this time, with a gun to his temple and Stiles wishes he was stronger. That he had his own knife or gun or weapon, because seeing Kate threatening Derek makes him see red.

“ _Please!”_ Derek yells and Peter sighs like this all some small inconvenience.

“Let him go, Lieutenant.” And Kate reluctantly pulls her gun away. Derek is at his side in a second, muttering curses under his breath in Atlantean as his hands flutter above the knife for a moment. He helps Stiles lie down on his back, kneeling at his side and he looks right into Stiles’ eyes.

 _“ <<I am going to have to pull it out.>>”_ Derek’s voice is thick and Stiles can feel a laugh bubbling up inside him. It comes out as a cough, he can taste blood. He grabs at one of Derek’s hands.

_“ <<Please don’t do this, don’t show them what the crystal can do.>>”_

Derek shakes his head, some tears escaping and trailing down his face.

 _“ <<I can’t see you like this. It hurts too much_.>>” Derek almost sobs and Stiles can feel his grip on Derek’s hand weakening. _“ <<I am sorry, Przemysław.>>”_

If Stiles thought that getting stabbed hurt, or that having the knife just sitting there hurt, he was totally wrong. Because it’s the worst kind of  pain he’s ever felt when Derek pulls the knife out and he can’t help the small scream that escapes his lips. He doesn’t feel Derek touch the crystal to his bloody stomach, but he feels Derek’s hand cover the wound and Derek rests his forehead against Stiles while the crystal and his hand glow.

Stiles closes his eyes and brings a bloody hand up to clutch at the back of Derek’s neck.

 

 

 

Peter’s got a gun to his back as they walk through the front doors the palace, back into the large room where the Queen is sitting on her small throne. Kate has got a gun to Derek’s temple while she marches him to the front of the room, but Derek doesn’t seem to care, his eyes flickering back over to Stiles every few seconds.

Derek hadn’t been able to completely heal the wound on his stomach, so it’s sore and it gets tweaked with each step he takes but it’s no longer bleeding and Stiles hopes that he’s not simply bleeding internally instead. His neck had healed up completely though, much to the astonishment of the whole crew.

Stiles had been subjected to listening to Peter and Kate talking prices for a massive crystal that can also apparently heal injuries. He still feels sick to his stomach.

“Knock, knock.” Peter sings, and this time the room is filled with Atlantean guards, all of whom train their weapons on Peter’s crew just as they reach the front of the room. The guards are standing at the base of the stairs in a half circle, blocking the human’s view of the Queen.

“Tell them to drop their weapons.” Kate announces, shooting her gun right next to Derek and making him jump, but not hitting him; a warning. Stiles can see Derek’s sisters at their mother’s side, stepping forward with concerned faces, like they’re going to go directly to their brother’s side. Stiles knows how they feel.

 _“ <<Put your weapons down, but beware, don’t let your guard down.>>”_ The Queen says and her guards share an angry look but follow her orders.

Kate lets Derek go and Derek looks like he wants to rush to both his mother’s side, and Stiles. Stiles nods his head, hooking his chin in Derek’s mother’s direction and Derek runs to her. Peter shoves the book and the paper in his face, the barrel of Peter’s gun a sharp pressure in the middle of his back.

“Search the room!” Kate orders and everyone splits off. Derek and his sisters stand up by the throne, the Queen sitting with a blank look but her blind eyes trained on Kate.

“You’re not applying yourself, kid. There’s got to be something here.” Peter says angrily, and Stiles shakes his head.

“Like I told you out on those fucking steps,” Stiles snarls, shoving the book out of his face. “There isn’t. It just says _‘The heart of Atlantis, lies in the eyes of her ruler.’_ ” Peter jostles his shoulders, violently turning him around and Stiles winces as it pulls on his stomach. Derek snarls somewhere behind him and Stiles can hear as the crew tears the room apart.

Peter smirks at him.

“Well. Why don’t we ask our lovely Queen then? See if she can help us fill in all these blanks?” Peter’s hand tightens on his arm and he turns Stiles around, marching him forward and up to the throne.

 _“ <<I am sorry for this.>>”_ Stiles manages to say, looking directly at the Queen, right before Peter slams the butt of the gun right into the healing wound on his stomach. Stiles gasps, doubling over and Derek takes a few steps forward only for Peter and Kate’s guns to click, one aimed at Derek, one aimed at Stiles. Derek’s lips peel back in a snarl, his sisters actually snarling and their eyes glowing. The queen calmly stands up and Peter walks towards her, his gun still trained on Derek.

“How about it, darling. Where’s the crystal chamber?” Peter asks and the Queen stares him down, standing tall and defiantly before Peter although Stiles knows the pain she must be in.

“You will destroy yourselves.” She says, her voice grave and echoing in the large room. Stiles can see Boyd, Erica, and Isaac stop and share a glance.

“Maybe I’m not being clear enough.” Peter grins and then his gun is moving from Derek to the Queen and he’s firing a round into her thigh. She goes down and her daughters dart forward, snarling at Peter but ultimately paying him no mind as they try to use their crystals to heal their mother.

 _“ <<You will pay for this with your life_.>>” Derek growls and the Atlantean guards take a few steps forward until Peter snaps his fingers and Peter’s own guards subdue them. Stiles watches as Deaton gives Peter an angry look, joining Derek’s sisters at the Queen’s side, checking the wound.

“None of this was part of the plan, Commander.” Deaton says, his voice calm, and his eyes flickering over to Stiles for a second before they focus back on the Queen. Peter sighs, and tilts his head to one side, casually strolling around the group on the floor until he can sit in the throne himself.

“Plans change Doc, you’ve gotta be prepared for change if you want to evolve, and you want to evolve if you want to live. Diplomacy has failed us, yet again. Now, your Majesty. I’m going to count to ten. If you don’t tell me where the crystal is by the time I reach ten, your son and daughters will be shot dead. Understand?”

Stiles slowly stands up, glaring at Peter and everyone watches in shock as Peter loads the gun and aims it at Laura’s head.

“One, two, three…” Peter trails off, looking down at the Queen for a moment before grinning. “Eight,” He begins and Stiles makes a noise of outrage. “Nine, Te—“ He cuts off , staring just above everyone and Stiles watches as Peter’s head tilts to one side. His grin widen and he stands up abruptly.

“The heart of Atlantis lies in the eyes of her ruler, wasn’t that what you said Stilinski?” Peter asks, almost skipping down the steps. Peter points behind them, at the pond and stones and Stiles suddenly sees why Peter is smiling so widely.

From this vantage point, the stepping stones form the symbol on the front of the Shepherd’s journal. Right where the Queen or King would see it every day.

“This is it. We’re in.” Peter announces and Stiles steps in front of him, blocking his way down the steps.

“Hale, for the last time, you need to listen to me. You haven’t got the slightest fucking idea of the power this thing is capable of!” Stiles tries and Peter shrugs.

“True, but I can think of at least six countries off the top of my head who’d pay absolutely anything to find out.” Peter shoves him to the side and continues down the steps, walking straight through the water towards the center of the symbol. Kate goes to follow him, pushing Derek along with her and one of Peter’s guards grabs him, pulling Stiles along towards the center when Peter snaps his fingers.

Stiles is getting really sick of people grabbing him out of nowhere. He’s also feeling a very strong urge to punch Peter in the fucking face, maybe break a few teeth and his nose. He quietly seethes as they all meet in the middle, and as soon as Peter steps into the absolute center of the pond it starts to sink around him. There’s a circular platform, sinking into the pond and Peter yanks Stiles down onto the platform, Kate pushing Derek down and then hopping down to join them as they disappear into the ground. Except, they aren’t actually disappearing. Instead it looks like they’re being lowered into an underground cavern space. Stiles’ eyes catch sight of a bright blue, glowing orb in the sky, floating rocks with carved faces in them floating around it quite a few hundred feet above their heads when they finally reach the bottom of the cavern.

Derek gasps behind him and Stiles can feel the moment when Derek’s hand gently grasps his bicep.

 _“ <<The kings and queens of our past_. _Stiles they’re here. >>”_ Derek whispers reverently and Stiles looks from the carved rocks to where Derek is staring up at them with wide eyes.

Peter stalks towards the rocks, only to stop when he reaches was seems to be a deep pool of water. Kate follows him and Derek drops to his knees, his hands on the ground and his face turned to the dirt as he starts quietly whispering prayers. Stiles stays by his side, staring over at Kate and Peter with apprehension. Peter turns to look at him.

“Alright, Stilinski. What’s next?”  Peter looks down at where Derek is praying with a frown on his face, he rolls his eyes and Stiles’ urge to punch Peter grows ten-fold. “And tell him to wrap it up, I can’t stand religious types, and we’ve got a schedule to meet.” Peter turns back around and Kate raises an eyebrow at Stiles, waving her gun around with a grin and Stiles sneers at her but crouches down, gently touching the gold band wrapped around Derek’s left bicep.

“Derek?” Derek looks up at him and Stiles glances over at Kate and Peter for a moment before giving Derek a sad look. “I… I’m sorry.” Derek gives him a small nod, putting his hand over Stiles on his arm before standing up and walking with Stiles toward the water’s edge.

“Come on, Stilinski. What’s that magical book of yours say now?” Peter asks again and Stiles scoffs.

“There’s a freaking giant crystal-orb floating over a hundred feet above our heads, right in the middle of some water that looks to be completely bottomless, and you’re asking me what the fuck is next? The book doesn’t say anything about this!”

Peter kicks a rock into the pool and immediately the bright blue light turns red.

“Come on, Stilinski, if you’re no longer any use to me then you’re expendable, and I don’t keep expendable people around. So get to it.”

“I don’t know how to ‘get to it’! I don’t even know what’s holding it up there!” Stiles yells just in time to see Derek walk past him, engulfed in a beam of white light coming from the orb. When Stiles looks around he sees that there’s no longer any red light.

“I don’t like this.” Kate mutters and Stiles looks at Derek’s face, his eyes are glowing bright blue but his expression is vacant. The crystal around his neck is floating a few inches above his chest, glowing just as brightly as his eyes. Stiles tries to follow after him, because Derek’s walking towards the bottomless pit of water in front of them but Peter’s arm stops him, hitting his wound and making him groan.

“Talk to me, Stilinski. What’s going on?” Peter growls and Stiles throws his hands up, exasperated. He regrets it the second he does it because it pulls on his stomach.

“Look all that the page you gave me said, was that the crystal was alive somehow.  I don’t know how to explain it, Hale, they hardly explain it themselves! It’s their deity, it’s their power source, it’s their souls, basically.”

“English, kid.” Stiles wants to scream again. Note to self: Peter Hale is bad for his blood pressure. Stiles thinks about the cut to his neck and the stab wound to his side. Scratch that. Peter Hale is bad for his health period.

“They’re a part of it, or it’s a part of them. I’m doing the best I can here!”

“Well do better.” Peter orders, raising an eyebrow and giving Stiles an unimpressed look while he waves his gun convincingly at Stiles.

“Oh, I know.” Stiles starts, sarcasm thick in his voice. “Why don’t _you_ translate, and I’ll _wave the gun around!”_ Stiles yells and an echoing, disembodied voice answers him.

_“ <<All will be well, Przemysław Stilinski. Be not afraid.>>”_

Stiles watches Derek turn around, his mouth moving with the words though the voice doesn’t sound like his voice. Peter whirls on Stiles.

“What did he say?”

Stiles shrugs, panicking. “I… I don’t know! I didn’t catch it. Listen, all I’ve learned from the language is the words I’ve read, alright? But not all the words are written down!” Kate scoffs beside him and he raises his eyebrows at her. “You think you could do any better, Argent? Why am I here then? Why did you need me on this trip?” He taunts and Kate gives him a murderous look, her hand twitching on her gun like she’s going to shoot him.

“Stop it, both of you” Peter snarls and Stiles looks towards Derek again only to see him halfway across the pool of water, only he’s not swimming, he’s walking across the top of the water like it’s not even water at all. Stiles watches with wide eyes as Derek gets to the center of the pool, standing directly below the orb, still encased in its light. The rocks begin to move, rumbling up in the air as they angle outwards from their protective circle around the light and the beam Derek’s caught in turns smaller and smaller until it flashes and a loud boom echoes in the cave. Derek slumps back a little, but stays upright as the beam grows again and then Derek starts floating up towards the light.

As Derek reaches the top he is engulfed inside the blue orb of light, the rocks angling themselves to once again surround the light, and then everything starts glowing too bright to look at. Stiles closes his eyes behind his glasses and waits until the light shining against his eyelids dims a bit.

When he does open his eyes again it’s to see Derek, but yet not Derek. It looks like Derek, but his entire body is blue and glowing, he looks ethereal as he slowly floats back down to touch the water again. Stiles takes a step forward, not even knowing he’s done so, and Peter’s hand grabs his shoulder.

“Hold your horses, lover boy.” He grins and Stiles looks away from him, back towards the glowing Derek that’s just standing in the middle of the pool.

“Derek!” He tries, there’s no answer. “Dedrek?” He asks again, this time with the slight accent Derek had tried to teach him earlier. Derek’s eyes flash open to show two glowing white shapes in Derek’s face. It’s not just his irises that are glowing this time, it’s his entire eyeball. There’s something breathtaking about how Derek looks right now, but something else that is telling Stiles he’s dangerous, back away. “Dedrek.” He says one last time and Derek begins walking towards them. The giant carved rocks fall from the air and crash into the water, splashing water everywhere except for at Derek where it seems the water hits a force field that’s surrounding him before it slides right back off.

When Derek makes it to the shore Peter’s hand reaches forward to touch him and Stiles slaps his hand away.

“No! Don’t, don’t touch him.” He says and for once Peter doesn’t try to kill him, instead choosing to stare at the glowing prince with wide eyes.

 

 

 

Stiles stands with the people of Atlantis who have gathered near the bridge that not even twenty four hours ago Stiles and the crew had come into the city on. He watches with a heavy heart as Erica finished locking Derek in some improvised containment unit. He stares up at her but she avoids his eyes as she climbs down and collects her tools.

“I guess this is it, huh.” He says and she looks towards him but can’t quite meet his eyes. “This is how it ends. You’re going to wipe out an entire civilization, killing men, women, children, all for a little money. But I mean, what’s a few hundred deaths compared to a live of luxury right, Erica? Congratulations, you and your Dad can finally open up that second shop, hire more workers, your dad can finally retire properly. And Boyd, you could start, what, a whole chain of flower shops? I’m sure you family’s going to be very proud.” Stiles says, watching as Erica climbs into the front of the truck and Boyd climbs in after her. Her shoulders are slumped, Stiles can see that from where he’s standing, and her hands are tightly clutching the steering wheel. Jackson and Lydia are in another truck, Isaac at the wheel, and Kate is in the last truck, waiting as they load Derek onto Erica’s truck. Peter walks around the back and gives Stiles a smirk.

“Done with your little speech there, kid? It’s time for you to step off your soapbox. Come on, you’ve read Darwin. This? This is natural selection, we’re just… helping it along.” Peter monologues, they finally manage to get Derek up onto Erica’s truck and one of the sergeants announces that they’re ready to go.

“Give me a moment, Sergeant. Now, I know I’m forgetting something.” Peter trails off, stepping right into Stiles space and Stiles tries to give him his best glare. Peter puts a hand to his chin, as if he’s deep in thought. “Hmm. I’ve got the cargo, the crystal, the crew… Oh yes. How could I have forgotten!” Peter exclaims right before he punches Stiles in the jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground. Some of the Atlanteans gasp, and a few even crouch down to check on him, recognizing him from when he walked with their prince the night before.

“Look at it this way, Stiles.” Peter says, backing away with a small smirk. “You were the one who discovered Atlantis, and now? Now you’re going to be part of the exhibit. Let’s move, people!” Hale orders, turning around and hopping into the truck that Kate is driving.

Kate’s truck starts up but the others sit idle for a second and so she yells “That was an order, not a suggestion. Let’s go!”

Erica starts up her truck, and Isaac looks like he’s about to do the same when Jackson hops out of the passenger seat and storms over to Stiles, helping him back to his feet and giving him an actual handkerchief to wipe the blood away from his split lip. Stiles is staring at him with wide eyes and Jackson glares for a second before Stiles can hear him muttering about how he’s spent weeks trying to get some meat on Stiles’ bones, and if he dies here then that’s basically just a ton of wasted food. Stiles knows what he really means though and so he grabs Jackson’s hand, giving him a small grateful smile and Jackson actually returns it before turning and standing behind Stiles shoulder, watching the others. Erica turns off her truck, slamming her hands against the steering wheel before Stiles can hear her yell ‘Fuck it’ and she’s the second person storming towards him. Boyd follows, Lydia by his side and Isaac a few steps behind them. They all stand either beside or behind Stiles, except for Lydia who gives him a grin.

“We’re all going to die, Stilinski.” She says before linking her arm with his.

“Commander!” one of the sergeants yells and when Peter sticks his head out the window it’s to see all of the main crew surrounding Stiles and glaring defiantly back at him.

“Oh you can’t be serious.” He mutters, pointing one of the sergeants towards what was Isaac’s truck before hopping out of Kate’s and going towards Erica’s.

“This is wrong and you know it.” Erica says, her arms crossed and her chin high, her blond hair blowing in the wind and Peter laughs.

“We’re literally hours away from our biggest payout ever, and you lot pick now of all times to grow a fucking conscience?” He asks, his voice amused as he stands outside the truck, the front door open and waiting.

“We’ve done a lot of things we’re not proud of, Commander.” Boyd pipes up. Counting on his hands as he continues talking. “Robbing graves, plundering tombs, littering, double parking… But nobody got hurt.”

“Well, maybe somebody got hurt, but it wasn’t anyone we knew.” Isaac adds and Boyd rolls his eyes.

“If this is the way you want it, fine. More for me.” Peter says, shrugging and getting into the truck, starting it up and they watch from the courtyard as Peter drives away. Just as they get onto the bridge there’s yelling and a commotion from behind them.

“Stiles! Stiles!”

Stiles turns just in time to see Scott and Allison pushing their way through the crowd. Allison has got an Atlantean bow slung over her shoulders, a quiver of Atlantean arrows strapped to her back, and a bleeding Scott using her shoulder as a sort of crutch while he limps along. Stiles runs towards them, his eyes wide.

“Holy hell, what happened to you guys?” Stiles exclaims and Allison huffs.

“They fucking, knocked us out as soon as we were done eating last night. Woke up tied to one of the truck wrecks back in the volcano, Hale had left a few scouts to watch us, took ‘em out pretty easily but they got Scott in the process. Found these on the way back over here. We were just up at the palace, hoping to catch you guys, but apparently we were late? What about you?” She asks and Stiles is about to tell her when he hears the bridge groan and he turns around to see the trucks halfway across.

“It’s kind of a long story—“ He begins, and Scott pipes up.

“Dude. I’ve never seen that scar before, the one on your stomach? Why does is look new?”

Stiles makes a noise and waves off Scott’s question.

“There’s no time for that, Peter’s got Derek, he’s the crystal right now, I think.”

“ _You think?”_

“What?”

Stiles gives both of them a glare, motioning towards the trucks. “I’ve got to go after them. If Derek gets too far from the city everyone here will die. Scott you stay here, you’re already hurt, but Allison. I might need you and your arrows.” Allison nods, and Scott looks like he’s about to protest but Allison pats his arm and he closes his mouth with a pout.

“Come on, let’s go!” Stiles turns to start running only to run right into Boyd and once again bounce back off the mustachioed mountain of a man. Boyd grabs him by the arms, stopping him.

“Wait a second.” Boyd says and then behind him the bridge suddenly blows up. Stiles can see that Peter and them had made it completely across. He thinks he can see Peter holding a detonation box. He glares up at Boyd who gives him a sheepish look, letting go of his arms. “Alright, now you can go.”

“Boyd, what the hell?”

Boyd gives him a ‘what can ya do?’ shrug and Stiles opens his mouth to speak when his name is once again called from the crowds.

 _“ <<Stiles, we need the one called Stiles.>>”_ A female voice orders and Stiles watches as Derek’s older sister storms through the crowd, all of them parting for one of their princesses. She zeroes in on Stiles and walks right up to him. _“ <<The one called Deaton, he says you need to see the Queen. She wants words with you.>>” _Laura announces, looking out at the smoking remains of the bridge with teeth exposed in an expression of a snarl. _“ <<You must hurry.>>”_

“Awe man. We just got back from the palace. Do you know how long it took us to race down here?” Scott whines and Stiles can feel hysterical laughter bubbling up. He pushes it down and gives his best friend a commiserating glance.

“Dude, you could always stay here.”

Scott scoffs. “And leave you to all the serious conversations? No way, let’s go.”

 

 

 

“How is she doing?” Stiles asks as soon as they walk into the palace room and Deaton looks up, his face grim.

 _“ <<We tried to heal her but our crystals are too weak.>>”_ Derek’s younger sister says to him, her face open and scared and Stiles wishes he could comfort her.

 _“ <<Derek is no longer in the city.>>”_ The queen says from where she’s laying down and Stiles bites his lip for a second before nodding.

“That’s right, they crossed the bridge then blew it up. There’s no way across.” He says and Cora’s face crumples.

“She’s not doing good. Peter managed to nick the femoral artery, she’s slowly bleeding out and I’ve tried to stitch it up but there’s only so much I can do here. She was already weak to begin with, this has sapped the last of her strength. I don’t think she’s going to make it.”

“So we’re going to lose our mother and our brother in one day.” Laura snarls in English, coming up behind Stiles wishes he had some good news to give them.

“This is _…. <<I’m sorry>>”_ He says, looking at the royal family in different states of disarray in front of him. _“ <<I have done this to you, and for that I cannot be more sorry>>._ I brought him here, none of this would have happened if I hadn’t brought Hale here.” Stiles says, feeling hopeless and Scott makes a noise from where he’s standing beside Allison, Deaton looking at the knife wound on Scott’s side. Apparently one of Peter’s scouts had nearly sliced him open before Allison had been able to knock them out. When Kate and Peter get to the volcano’s main tunnel it’ll be to find four of their own knocked out and tied up. Allison has a distinctly pissed off aura around her.

“Stiles, do you honestly think that if you’d said no to Hale about going to Atlantis, he wouldn’t have eventually found someone else to read the book and take him?” Scott asks and Isaac nods.

“That’s true, Hale’s been kinda… crazy since Iceland. He’s wanted to go after the crystal since the moment we found the book, but your mom sent the book away and refused to tell us where’d she’d sent it. She stopped traveling with us after that expedition. We didn’t hear about her death until a few years later.”

 _“ <<My son.>>”_ The Queen speaks up and Stiles turns to see her looking directly at him. _“ <<He was chosen_.>>” She says, her voice pained as she gets Laura’s help in sitting up.

“What?”

“My son has been chosen,” The Queen repeats, clutching the crystal around her neck and looking sad. “Like his father before him as chosen. In time of danger, the heart chooses a host, someone of royal blood, to protect itself and its people. It will accept no other.”

“Choose?” Erica asks.

“So it is alive.” Stiles mutters and the Queen nods.

“In a way. The heart thrives off the collective emotions of all that came before us, and in return it provides power, healing, protection, life. As it grew and developed it formed a conscience of its own. Before the Mehbelmok, I was arrogant. I sought to use the heart as a weapon, to destroy our enemies and any others standing against us. I wished to use it as a weapon of war, but it’s power is far too great to control. It overwhelmed us and lead to our destruction.” The Queen coughs and Laura grabs her hand, sitting beside her and staring at her mother with a concerned face, wiping a cold cloth over her mother’s forehead.

“That’s… That’s why you hid it beneath the city.”  Stiles says, looking at the Queen with wide eyes. “That light that Derek saw, it actually was the crystal.”

“Yes. Derek saw it the day it took his father, and I hid it below the palace to stop history from repeating itself and to prevent Derek, or his sisters, from suffering the same fate as my beloved husband.”

“What do you mean?”

“If Derek leaves the city still bonded with the heart the city will deteriorate, this is true. But if Derek stays bonded to the crystal for too long he could be lost to it forever. The love of my children is all I have left. The burden of this city would have become his, when the time was right, but now it falls to you.” The Queen says, taking off the crystal around her neck and holding it out to Stiles.

“Me? You’ve got two daughters still here that could—“

“No. Cora is too young and Laura has not been trained. You must take this.” Laura grabs the crystal from her mother and puts it directly into Stiles hands, Stiles giving her a surprised look.

“I don’t understand.” Stiles admits, and Laura gives him a small smile.

 _“ <<I was trained to be Dedrek’s advisor, his left hand. I have been trained to be a general and to fight and protect the city. I have always been amongst the front lines. Dedrek was trained to rule, to know the laws in an out, to know what the people need and to give it to them. I would make a terrible ruler.>>”_ She says, closing Stiles’ hand around the crystal.

“Return the heart,” The Queen says, slowly laying back on the couch they’ve got her on. Cora starts crying, holding her mother’s hand tight between her own. “Save Atlantis, save my son.” They all watch as she takes her last breath and the crystal in Stiles hands flares brightly for a moment before fading almost to its normal though, although Stiles doesn’t think he’s imagining that it’s duller than it should be. When he looks up at Laura’s crystal and sees it the same he knows that he isn’t imaging it. Derek’s and the crystal’s absence is already starting to affect everything.

“So, what’s it going to be?” Erica inquires after a moment and Stiles startles. The Atlantean guards are kneeling beside the body of their Queen, Laura and Cora holding her hands and whispering their own prayers for their mother.

“Excuse me?” Stiles asks and Erica rolls her eyes.

“I followed you in, I’m following you out. So what are you going to do?” She questions and all the events of the past few hours catch up to Stiles in a brief moment of hysterics.

“What are we going to do? Why the hell are you asking me? You’ve seen how effective my actions have been, but let’s just recap in case I miss something.” Stiles starts pacing, clutching the crystal tightly in one hand and using his fingers to count.

He holds up one finger. “I lead a band of plundering vandals to what is literally the greatest archaeological find in recording history.” He puts up a second and third finger. “This leads to the kidnap of one member of the royal family, and the murder of another. Not the fucking mention basically personally delivering the most powerful force known to man into the hands of a mercenary nutcase and his girlfriend, who’re both probably going to sell it to some king if they can manage it. Have I left anything out?” He asks, holding up four fingers, almost yelling at the crew.

“Well… You did set the camp on fire which cause us to fall down a volcano.” Lydia says and Stiles throws his hands up in the air.

“Of course. Thank you, Lydia! I had almost forgotten.”

A hand lands on his shoulder and Stiles turns to see Boyd looking at him seriously. “You know, it’s been my experience that if you’re going through hell you’ve got to keep going, and even if you’ve hit the absolute bottom, the only place left to go is up.” He says and Stiles slumps in on himself, pulling his glasses off and running his hand down his face tiredly before he sighs.

“And who gave you this advice?” He inquires, a bone-deep tiredness rushing through him as the wind is pulled from his sails. Boyd smiles.

“An absolutely brilliant woman by the name of Claudia Stilinski.”

Stiles’ heart thumps in his chest and he looks down at the crystal in his hands before glancing at all his friends. Lydia looks bored, so does Jackson, but Stiles can see the tension in Jackson’s shoulders that belittles the cool persona he’s showing and Stiles is kind of touched. If someone like Jackson supports him, and was the first to join him, then that’s gotta mean something. Isaac is playing a knife, god knows where he got it from, looking at Stiles with a bright grin. Erica is watching him critically, but her hand is clenching and unclenching at her side, Boyd seems completely calm beside her and is just watching Stiles with no pressure behind his presence at all, which Stiles appreciates. Scott, bless his heart, looks determined to kick some ass even as Deaton is stitching up his side with medical thread, and Allison looks like she’d fucking fly across the sea of lava to get to— Wait a second. Flying. That’s it!

Stiles turns to look at the two princesses and quickly walks towards them.

“Wait!” Erica calls and Stiles turns back around. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to get us a ride across a pit of lava.” He answers and they all look confused, Allison looks at him a little worriedly, like he’s lost his mind, and he doesn’t give them any other answers. He continues his path and goes right up to where Laura is standing, watching the guards carry her mother’s body away, likely to be prepared for a funeral.

 _“ <<Laura, your brother showed me this… Vehicle of some kind. It looked like a massive metal fish, but he only showed me one of them. Have you got any more?>>”_ He asks and she gives him a confused look before her expression clears.

 _“ <<You know how to make them fly again.>>”_ She says and he nods. She grins at him, sharing a look with her younger sister. _“ <<We definitely have more.>>”_

 

 

 

It turns out that back before the flood, only the royal guard and the royal family flew the machines, and many were destroyed with the floods, but those few left were parked in a sort of garage near the palace. Laura and Cora lead him there, calling half their guard to follow along, as well as Stiles’ gang.

Stiles immediately climbs up onto one of the bigger machines, using Talia’s crystal to start it up and everyone stares with wide eyes. The Atlantean’s all laugh and jostle each other in excitement, and he explains how they have to use the crystals.

While they’re all starting up their own rides Stiles looks down at his friends. Isaac’s looking at the machine with a mildly impressed look on his face.

“You think they have anything… Sportier?” He asks Stiles, looking up at him and grinning. “Like, I dunno, a tuna maybe?” Stiles snorts a laugh as Laura grabs Isaac by the arm and tugs him along to see some of the smaller, faster machines.

“I’m impressed, Stilinski.” Lydia announces before she easily hops up alongside one of the guards in one of the floating machines. Everyone stares at her for a moment before shrugging and going off to find their own partners to fly with.

“Alright!” Stiles yells, getting everyone’s attention. “It’s a little temperamental, so just remember to be—“ He’s cut off by one of the machines flying backwards and crashing into a wall. Erica is sitting atop it, looking amused and guilty and the guard she’s with is covering her face with her hands. “Gentle.” Just announces. “Remember to be gentle.”

Some of the guards laugh, testing out their own machines. As soon as everyone seems to have grasped how to make their machines move forward Stiles flies to the front of them, Laura by his side with Isaac sitting behind her.

 _“ <<Alright.>>”_ She yells, her voice firm. _“ <<We are here to save my brother, your king. We are going to save Atlantis or die trying!>>” _All her guards cheer and she nods over at Stiles. “Do you have a plan?” She asks and he shrugs.

“Come in low and fast, take them by surprise?” He says and Laura nods but Jackson speaks up.

“Hate to break it to you, Stilinski, but Hale’s never surprised.” He says and Lydia nods, flicking her cigarette.

“I agree with Whittemore. Hale’s never surprised, and he’s got a lot of guns. Besides, there’s only one way into where they are in the volcano.” She says and Stiles swears.

“Great. Do you have any suggestions then?” He asks and Lydia shrugs.

“Don’t get shot.”

“That’s… Thanks.” He says sarcastically and she gives him a two fingered salute. Allison looks like she’s stifling laughter behind her hand. Stiles doesn’t know why he likes her.

 _“ <<Let’s go!>>”_ Laura yells and everyone cheers as they rush off.

 

 

 

They get into the volcano just in time to see a sort of hot air balloon starting to float up from the ground. Stiles looks up and sees that they’ve blown their path out of the volcano free, a tiny white light shining all the way down the volcano. Peter and Kate are in the hot air balloon, Derek’s prison hanging from the bottom of it.

 _“ <<There they are!>>”_ Stiles yells, and he watches the moment Peter realizes they’re there.

“Fire at will!” Peter commands, and his men still on the ground start unloading all their ammo at the flying machines. The only thing Stiles can hear is gunfire and he watches as the Atlanteans and Allison fire arrows at the shooters, hitting some and knocking them to the ground. There’s still far too many of them on the ground when suddenly more machines join them in the air. They look like miniature planes, large enough to hold one person and a large machine gun that can hold and shoot more bullets than their little guns on the ground can. Stiles turns to look at Lydia with wide eyes. He sees a cell phone in her hands, and she seems to be taking either videos or pictures of what’s going on. He has a throwaway thought as to how she’s kept it charged this entire time, but he shakes it off.

“I thought you said he only had guns!” He yells at her and she gives him a haughty look.

“I said he had guns, not that he _only_ had guns.” She yells back, somehow still sounding bored and like she’s better than he is. He glares at her and quickly looks around, the air balloon is floating higher and higher above them, powered by a giant fan beneath it and large fires under more than one balloon.

“Boyd!” He yells and immediately Boyd and his pilot zoom to his side. He nods his chin towards the balloon. “We can’t let them reach the top of the shaft!” He yells and Boyd nods.

Stiles watches as some of the pilots figure out how to make lines of lightning shoot from their machines, and he watches as Boyd begins blowing up every plane in their path. The truck that seems to be holding the planes goes up in flames and Stiles watches as the balloon still keeps going higher.

“Everyone!” He shouts, a plan forming in his mind. “I’ve got a plan! Boyd! You and me are gonna be decays. Erica, Laura, Deaton, fly up underneath that thing and cut him loose! Everyone else, try and keep the balloon from flying any higher!” Everyone nods, flying away and Laura repeats his orders in Atlantean, cheering her guard on as they fly to do their jobs.

He watches as Allison drops from her machine, taking out Peter’s men from the ground and absolutely kicking ass. Isaac is quick to join her and together they seem to make some headway. Isaac looks like he’s having way too much fun with the knife Stiles saw him handling earlier.

Laura gets Boyd to hop from his piloted ride over to hers so she can jump off of it and onto Derek’s cage, Erica and Deaton on it with what looks to be Deaton’s bone saw sawing at the chains. Boyd flies beside him as they fly low to the ground, trying to lure out the last of Peter’s men before taking them out with their own lightning guns. Then they fly up, shooting at Peter and Kate where they seem to both be shooting into the fray, Kate with a pistol and Peter with a machine gun. Stiles watches with a grin as Boyd manages to shoot the gun right out of Peter’s hands before giving him a shit eating grin and a salute.

Things are hectic as Stiles helps Boyd shoot down as many flying machines as possible, but he can still see the moment that Kate and Peter notice what he’s got Laura, Deaton and Erica working on. Kate releases something from the rails of the balloon, letting it fall and when it hits Laura’s machine it explodes. They all hurry off the cage and onto the other two machines, flying away and awaiting another chance to try and saw through the chains. Stiles tries to think up another distraction but his brain comes up with only one: crash his vehicle into the balloon. It’s likely to pop, if not the main balloon, then at least one of the few surrounding it, and so he curses.

“Boyd I’m about to do something really stupid!” He yells and Boyd gives him a look. “Try and help Laura and them!” He shouts, piloting his machine and jumping off it at the last second, latching onto the ropes of the balloon just as one of the balloons pops. The rest of the balloon jerks and begins to slowly starts to descend back to the ground, and from where Stiles is latched onto the main balloon like a particularly persistent leech he watches as Kate and Peter begin throwing the few extra items and barrels over board. He can hear their conversation as he slowly tries to climb his way down to them.

“That’s all there is, unless someone wants to jump!” Kate announces and she doesn’t even notice Peter coming right up behind her until it’s too late and he’s pushing her overboard.

“Ladies first!” He sings and he seems to think he’s done it but Stiles can see Kate’s hands gripping the rails. He watches as she swings herself back around, aiming a kick to Peter’s face as she comes back on board.

“You said we were in this together, Hale!” She shrieks and then they’re fighting, punching and kicking and dodging hits, all while arguing. Stiles rolls his eyes. “You promised me a percentage!”

“Get it in writing next time, sweetheart.”

Peter somehow manages to knock Kate off balance.

“Nothing personal.” He sneers, shoving her once again over the railings. This time she’s too dazed to grab on, and Stiles stops watching as she falls and falls and falls. Her scream of ‘Hale’ echoes in the shaft and Stiles finally makes it to where Peter is standing, dropping down and landing with a clang behind the commander.

Peter turns around and snarls when he sees him. “I have to admit, kid, you’re a bigger pain the neck than I thought possible.” Peter lunges for him and he tries to duck to one side, only to be shoved against the railing which breaks away and begins to fall. Stiles is holding onto the end of it when it swings down, blocking the large fans and causing the balloon to start sinking even faster. Stiles can feel his grip slipping on the rails and he pulls himself up onto one of the fan blades.

“I consider myself an even-tempered man, Stilinski.” Peter continues, climbing his way down towards Stiles. “It takes quite a lot to get under my skin, and congratulations, you’ve done it!” Stiles swings down and out of the way just as Peter tries to kick him in the face. He’s holding onto the chains that Derek’s hanging from when suddenly a flare shoots up from the ground and explodes, popping the main balloon and causing them to begin to plummet. Pieces of the balloon are raining down around them, burning like fiery comets, and Stiles doesn’t know where he got it from but Peter jumps down from the fan blades onto Derek’s cage with an axe in his hands.

He’s swinging it around with a manic look on his face and Stiles is standing on one little outcropping of metal on the side of the large metal prison, trying to duck and dodge the axe with nowhere else to go unless he wants to fall to his death.

“Getting tired, Mr. Stilinski?” Peter cackles, swinging wildly. “I’m just getting warmed up!” His next swing comes down and breaks one of the few windows on Derek’s cage, but Stiles notices that the glass shards are glowing. He quickly picks the biggest one out of the window and holds it in his hand, waiting for the next moment Peter swings the axe down. When he does Stiles scratches his arm with the glass shard, watching as the wound glows blue and glowing blue stone suddenly seems to spread along Peter’s skin from the cut.

Peter screams as Stiles manages to scramble away and back up the chains, watching as whatever magic the crystal holds takes over Peter’s body and turns it a dark blue, red cracks throughout it and his eyes engulfed in bright yellow flames. It seems to freeze his body in a perpetual scream and Stiles breathes a sigh of relief just a second too soon as suddenly Peter’s lunging up at him, climbing up and grabbing onto the fan blades for support just as they start back up, causing a small explosion in which Peter’s body breaks into a thousand blue shards.

The shards are sharp enough to cut chain though, and they cut through Derek’s chains, making the case fall to the ground just as they’re maybe fifteen feet from the ground. Stiles jumps after it, landing on the side of the volcano and sliding down after Derek. They reach the volcano floor and Stiles pushes Derek out of the way with Allison and Isaac’s help just in time for the hot mess that is the rest of the hot air balloon to fall in an explosive crash against the volcano floor.

Everything is silent for a second and Stiles looks up to see that there are no more flying ships and it seems that they’ve subdued the last of Hale’s men. It seems like they’ve won.

Then the ground starts shaking.

Stiles watches in horror as the ground starts cracking beneath them.

“The volcano!” Isaac yells. “It’s going to erupt!”

“This is so not the place to be right now!” Jackson announces, voice panicked and they all look like they’re about to fly off but Stiles waves his arms around.

“Wait! If we don’t bring him back the whole city will die!”

“If we don’t get out of here now we’ll all die!” Erica yells back and Stiles shakes his head.

“The only way to reverse this is to save him! Just do it!”

Allison and Isaac scramble to find chains and Erica brings around one of the machines so they can hook up Derek’s cage to get pulled along behind it. The rest of the guard and Laura and Cora start to fly towards the way out as Stiles, Isaac, and Allison hop onto the machines behind a few people. Stiles is on the back of Scott’s fish when he hears the chain snaps and looks to see that the latch on Derek’s cage is broken.

Stiles doesn’t even think about it as he drops from the fish, running towards Derek even as the volcano floor continues to crack open and he can see lava beneath it. He doesn’t even realize Scott has dropped down beside him until Scott’s hand takes the chain he’s been wrapping around Derek’s cage and hooks it back into the chain.

“Scott? What the hell, why aren’t you on the fish?” He asks and Scott gives him a determined look.

“As if I’m just gonna let my best friend almost get burned to death by lava without being right there beside him.” Stiles launches himself at Scott in a brief hug until Allison yells at them to hold on from her place behind Erica and they both jump onto the cage just as Erica flies forward again.

This time the chain holds, but they’re being dragged along the ground, watching as the ground behind them breaks away completely. The tunnel they’re traveling out of widens up and they finally have liftoff, lava flowing behind them so closely that Stiles can feel the extreme heat searing his shoes.

They fly out of the volcano tunnels and back into the night, cheering as they race towards the city once more. They fly towards the palace courtyard, lowering Derek down into the middle of it before parking their vehicles.

“Guys the walls gonna blow!” Erica yells and Stiles glances towards the volcano to see it slowing cracking open. The Queen said that the crystal protects Atlantis, so maybe if they can free Derek, the crystal will protect it from the volcano. If it doesn’t, they’re all seconds away from being incinerated.

Laura rushes towards Stiles and Scott, helping both of them to break open the container. Laura’s eyes widen as she gets a glimpse of her brother, glowing bright blue and almost transparent. As the pieces of the container break away they begin floating around Derek in lazy circles, speeding up as they continue their orbit. Their circle slowly widens and Stiles watches as the designs on the courtyard ground slowly start to glow like Derek is. The ground beneath them shakes and Laura pulls Scott and Stiles out of the way just in time for the large carved faces to rise up into the sky, breaking through the ground and taking Derek with them as he floats in the middle of them all.

They stop at some indeterminate altitude in the sky and the rocks speed up, spinning around Derek until they’re going so fast that they look like just a halo of light around another orb of light. A line of lightning shoots out of the mass in the sky and hits something out in the water.

Stiles can hear gasps from all the villagers on the steps and he agrees, watching as a large human shaped stone being stands up from the water and turns away from the city. More light beams come off the main orb and shoot into different directions and everyone watches as more and more stone men stand up. They all walk towards the edges of the island, clapping their hands together and then spreading their arms wide, a glowing force field growing from their hands. Stiles watches as the picture from the mural forms before his eyes and the force field fully forms just as the volcano finally explodes, lava rushing towards them. Only, it never gets farther than the island’s edge, and Stiles can see it slowly making its way up along the force field, but not breaking through it.

As soon as they’re fully submerged in lava a white flash goes along the shield from the center, and the lava immediately solidifies into rock before that rock cracks and falls away and in quick time. As soon as the lava is gone the shield disappears, leaving a smoky mess to engulf everyone for a moment.

As the smoke clears Stiles can see Derek slowly descending from a cloud of dust, no longer glowing, and looking completely human.  Stiles steps forward as Derek gets closer to the ground, ready to catch Derek should he not be fully conscious.

It’s good that he does so, because as soon as Derek’s feet touch the ground he slumps over, and Stiles wraps an arm around his waist and behind his shoulders while Derek’s head rests on his shoulders. Derek just breathes for a few moments and then his eyes flutter open and Stiles has honestly never been so glad to see those kaleidoscope eyes.

 _“ <<Przemysław?>>”_ He mumbles and Stiles could cry, but instead he just grumbles.

“You need to stop saying it, people will think they can try to call me that and they’ll butcher it.”

Derek laughs into his neck before turning to pull Stiles into a hug and the people cheer, seeing their prince brought back to them. Laura launches herself forward, hugging both Stiles and her brother and soon enough the rest of Stiles’ friends join them, all wrapped up in a large group hug.

 

 

 

“Atlantis will honor your names forever.” Derek says, carefully putting a crystal around Scott’s neck, just as he had done for the rest of the crew. “I only wish there was more we could do for you.”

Boyd laughs, pointing with his thumb to the massive pile of gold and jewels that’s being packed up into a large flying ship.

“Thanks, your highness, but I’m pretty sure we’re good.”

Stiles laughs, standing beside Derek and looking back at all his friends. “It’ll take you as far as the surface.” He says, nodding his chin towards the ship and Erica steps forward to give him a hug.

“I’m gonna miss you, Stilinski.” She smiles and Stiles smiles back at her. This causes a domino effect of goodbyes and Stiles even gets a hug from Jackson, and he swears he can see a few tears in the corner of Jackson’s eyes, but he doesn’t say anything.

Last to say their goodbyes are Allison and Scott, both of whom hug him for a long few minutes.

“You’re still coming to the wedding.” Scott announces, his voice thick and Stiles nods, his cheek rubbing against Scott’s. “Good, cause otherwise I’d come here and beat you up.”

When they all pull away Scott and Stiles both have a few tears on their faces. Stiles knows this isn’t goodbye for good, but he’s seen Scott almost every day of his life. He’s going to miss having his goofy best friend around all the time, but he knows his place is here at Derek’s side.

He’s going to be useful here, teaching an entire city to reconnect with its culture and teaching it to read. He’ll still make a few trips to the surface, and if he can manage it he kind of wants to bring his grandma down here to see everything. He knows she’d appreciate it.

“Take good care of yourself, Stiles Stilinski.” Deaton says when Scott and Allison finally step away and he gives the doctor a nod.

“I’ll do my best.”

“Alright! Let’s get a picture in front of the fish.” Lydia announces, holding up her phone and Derek drags Stiles over to where everyone gathers around, Lydia’s arm extended as they all squish into the picture.

“Everyone say cheese!” Isaac laughs cheekily and they all dutifully parrot the word as Lydia takes the picture. Stiles is going to miss all of them.

 

 

 

“Let’s go over it again.” Deucalion announces and he can hear the group in front of him shuffling in their seats. “You didn’t find anything?”

“No sir,” A voice answers. “Just a lot of rocks… Some fish.”

“What happened to Ms. Argent?” Deucalion asks and a different voice answers him this time.

“Missing.”

“And Hale?”

“He’s missing as well.”

“What about Stilinski?”

“Went down with the sub.”

 

 

 

Stiles finishes carving the last detail into the large piece of stone, turning to look back at Derek as Derek steps forward and touches his crystal to the rock.

The carved out lines begin to glow and the rock slowly floats up to join the others.

Derek stands in the middle of the courtyard, watching the stone representation of his mother join his father and the other previous kings and queens. Then he turns back to look at Stiles, a grin on his lips.

 _“ <<Follow me.>>”_ He says before grabbing Stiles wrist and pulling him along.

Stiles can hear Laura laughing at them as they disappear around a corner and Derek gives him a quick kiss before laughing and beginning to climb up the palace walls. Stiles smiles for a moment, touching a hand to his lips before chasing after his husband.

They reach the top easily and stand up there looking up at the kings and queens surrounding the heart of Atlantis before looking out at Atlantis. There’s a hustle and bustle that wasn’t there the first time Stiles arrived in Atlantis, and there’s something different about Derek too that Stiles notices every day.

The city is thriving and Derek looks so alive and happy that it almost hurts to see. It’s like looking at the sun, but Stiles does it anyway because the view is absolutely breathtaking.

 _“ <<I love you, Przemysław.>>”_ Derek whispers, turning to Stiles and cupping his face with his hands. Stiles huffs at the use of his real name but smiles up at Derek anyway, unable to resist when he sees Derek’s cute little bunny teeth.

 _“ <<I love you more.>>”_ He says simply just before Derek leans down and kisses him again.


End file.
